Beyond the Ocean
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: Danielle is no ordinary passenger on the famous Ship of Dreams: She, unlike anyone, can see the future as though it's up to her to prevent the inevitable from occurring. Who will survive the outcome? COMPLETE!
1. Author's Note

**Welcome to my new story. Actually, this one is quite older than all the others. So old, in fact, it dates back to the year 2008! It's titled _Beyond the Ocean_ (originally _The Girl I Am_), and here's the summary:**

Could one person possibly make a difference?

"…_My mind drifted farther and farther away from reality, only to stop to see a young woman holding onto the railings of the stern as the rest of her body stayed suspended in the air. If her hands and feet weren't planted on the rail like they were now, then she surely would've fallen. And as my mind saw these images, I pleaded the woman to just come back over the rail. And just like God answering my prayers, I saw a young man with unruly mud-blond hair and worn clothes say, 'Don't do it.' Almost making the woman lose her grip, I saw for the first time how cold it was. Their breath stayed suspended in the air like early morning mist. One fall and she'd freeze. _Twenty-eight degrees… Above freezing…

_With a cracked voice, the woman made a desperate, 'Stay back! Don't come any closer!'…"_

16-year Danielle Fitz only wanted to stay home and live her peaceful life in Southampton, England, instead of being forced to move to America on the new ocean liner, the R.M.S. _Titanic_. But like life, she can't always get what she wants…

After the pure sights and hearings of a ship sinking in the distance, Danielle is prepared for a voyage of a lifetime. Though her superstitions lead her to see the lovers of Rose DeWitt Bukater and Jack Dawson, she knows that something is going to go wrong.

Join Danielle on a journey where she learns that no matter how hard you try, you may never succeed.

**Though only twelve chapters, excluding this author's note, they are quite decent in length. This was originally my longest story, but now many of my others are exceeding this.**

**My Original Author's Note: **

This is my first book ever written, something I've been working on for a whole year. *Phew* It's been hard work. The first copy of this storywas the first actual book (but only 90-something pages) that I've written. But like all starters, there were a lot of errors and what I call "unprofessional writing." I have to be good to be in an enriched Language Arts class! Anyhow, let me explain about this book you're about to read, titled _Beyond the Ocean_. All books involve a disclaimer, and some things (correction: some peoples) that are NOT mine and NEVER will be.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Rose DeWitt Bukater, Jack Dawson, Cal Hockley, Fabrizio de Rossi, Tommy Ryan or any other of James Cameron's characters.**

Those characters ring a bell? Okay, I admit I'm obsessed. But somehow using these characters give out my best writing. These characters belong to James Cameron, famous director with two of his hit movies at the top of highest-grossing films: Avatar at one with 2.5 billion, and Titanic at two with 1.8 billion.

Now I want you ALL to get psyched! In April, 2012, Titanic will be released AGAIN in 3D! Hopefully it would reclaim it's number one reputation!

Now back to this book. It involves Jack and Rose partially; It involves something known as Second Sight, something I learned about in Richard Peck's amazing Blossom Culp series, but is a little different. This new "Second Sight" will be explained throughout the chapters of suspense, courage, and mystery.

This book has a sequel I have thought little of but will be written.

I also want to mention that this story is like a remake of the Titanic story. Romeo and Juliet, ya know? Kinda like that. Friendships grow really quickly, love as well... I want to go into more detail on the main character's relationship with this sweet boy named John, but yet, why does it have to be like that? Just because we think love shouldn't happen in three days doesn't mean it's impossible. Same goes with friendships.

I did my best to copy the fashion styles of students and teens. I got most of the detail from a book that took place in 1914, the Blossom Culp series that I mentioned before.

So, enjoy, readers. Just flip the page for the first chapter. :)


	2. Beginnings of a New Life

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Titanic _(1997).**

**_Beyond the Ocean_  
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**_By Lady Elena Dawson_**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**Beginnings of a New Life**

Like my mother always says, life doesn't always go as planned. And I find this true by heart. _Not only_ will I be forced to go to America on a ship I have a terrible feeling about, but now I will also have to make new friends and go to a new school. My parents weren't happy about putting such a heavy change on me, but it wasn't my fault that my father got a job transfer that happened to be in the New World.

My name is Danielle Fitz. Not only is my family one of the wealthiest in Southampton, but once you see me you will notice that I have refined bloodlines. Straight, brown hair, hazel eyes with a tint of blue, soft pink lips, and a stunning tan is all you will see when you catch a glimpse of me. Boys tend to stare, but that's the least I care about. What's important to me right now is to make a straight-A education and to support the career option of my choice. But, today I decided to embrace my child-like behavior on the last day of school as we headed off on our yearly spring vacation.

Once the school bell rang, I was the first out, my pouch full of books hanging from a branch but hidden between the newly budded leaves. I had to admit that climbing a tree with leather shoes (boots, to be more specific) was hard, but within just a few minutes my body was perched on a branch with the whole view of the school.

My plan was to flip over on the branch last second and scare my best friend, Jennifer Thornton. I called her Jenny, but that's the least that matters. Jenny's appearance was quite close to mine, but her blue eyes, curly blonde hair, and skin the shade of a dark pale makes her seem more like a nickelodeon star. Jenny once said that she would be on the next popular nickelodeon when she got older, while she also told me that I would make a perfect female in one of Shakespeare's productions. Though I confess I am not much into acting, that career choice wasn't out of reach.

"Danielle!" Jenny called. I saw her clear in the distance, and I just had to smile by the way she looked. Jenny loved pink, so she wore white and pink dresses, skirts, and blouses with white stockings (which no one ever sees, anyway; it was inappropriate to see your ankle) and white leather shoes or boots. She always wore her favorite hot pink ribbon that matched her blond hair so perfectly, you would've thought that it was part of her.

As she got closer, I firmly planted my legs around the branch, the rest of my body leaning forward, crouching like a tiger waiting for the right time to pounce. And when she got closer, I let my body fall and concentrated my mind on my legs to support me so I wouldn't fall and crack my head open.

"Gah!" shrieked Jenny once she saw me flipped over on the branch. I started laughing in hysterics, her face was that funny. My good-natured laugh caught the attention of some boys far away.

"Calm down, Ophelia, you haven't drowned yet," I joked. Jenny clearly did not find that funny.

"Danielle Genevieve Fitz, _what_ do you think you're doing?" Jenny's pale face now turned red with humiliation and anger.

"Is using my full name necessary?" I laughed again as I flipped off the branch, landing with a gentle, loud _tap _of my leather patent boots. "Well, in this situation, it is," she said, her hands crossed over her chest, a pout escaping her lips. She never liked being scared or made fun of.

"Oh, come on, Jen," I coaxed. "I was just joking around with you. Everything's okay now, you see?" My hair flew in the breeze, straightening itself out. I pushed a strand away from my face.

"Oh, that's a load of poppycock," Jenny pouted. "I wasn't scared one bit. And just before you say a crude comment, why do you play these childish games anyway?"

I twisted my hair between my fingers, biting my lip. Jenny never cared enough about my thoughts except for now. "Well, I like to be free and to be able to do what I want. I don't want to give up my childhood yet. Not now, not ever…"

Jenny frowned at me. "Danny, we'll always be friends. Just… promise me you'll become, er, well, more… adult-like or something like that?"

I sighed. "I promise." Then I shot a smile at her. "Always."

Jenny seemed pleased with this, and so her and I made our long walk home together as best friends. Always.

...

"How was the last day of school?" my mother asked me when I opened the door.

"Oh, like usual: nothing. Just fun and games before our spring vacation. They even let us run around barefoot in the grass," I responded. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen." Though I knew Mother loved to be in the kitchen, I asked anyway. It wasn't because I didn't know her well, it's just because I was bored. My long, ankle-length skirt in the color of navy blue swished at my feet, my booted legs clicking on the tiles. The skirt did restrict me during my climb up the tree, and when I noticed the tear as I walked down the hall leading to the kitchen, my face flushed and I did my best to hide it.

Walking into the kitchen, an aroma of different smells diffused and filled my nose. "What are you making?" I walked over to my mother, who was stirring something in a boiling pot. "Pork stew?"

Mother nodded her head. "Yes. Today's a very special day."

"Not that special, Mother. You didn't make pork stew last vacation we took." I rubbed my eyes as the steam from the boiling pot reached them. "So, what's so special?"

Mother started to fidget. "Tell me. Buying pork is expensive these days. Most likely you'll be cooking up chicken or beef or something," I said. Even though we were a little wealthy, pork was something we liked to keep a luxury so we didn't seem "filthy rich." I started to get annoyed, because I hated it when Mother fidgeted. She would move from one foot to another, bending her knees and such, or even twirl her hair around her fingers. It was quite uncomfortable to look at.

"Oh, you'll see. Your father said that there will be something special announced tonight." Mother stopped fidgeting, and I'm sure I saw her give a sigh of relief.

"Announced?" I asked.

"Yes. Announced."

I ended that conversation and I walked out of the room, my mind racing. _What is she hiding from me?_

I slowly closed the door to my large bedroom, keeping my eyes on the floor. _What could possibly be more special than the life I already have?_

_...  
><em>

That night at dinner, I feasted on rich pork stew with tangy fruits and vegetables. Not only did I forget about what Mother said earlier, but Father didn't even say anything at the dinner table. Or, so he did until…

"So, Danny, how was school today?" Father asked me. I was about to respond, when Mother blurted out, "Just tell her, Jerry."

"Tell me what?" My mind raced back to the special announcement Mother said was to come later in the day. "Tell me now."

Instead of talking to me, though, Father told my mother, "Not now, Sarah. Give the girl some time."

"Some time for what?" I was desperate now, my voice rising higher. "I have the right to know."

Father sighed. "Oh, Danyella, you're so funny. Your mother and I are just talking about grown-up things." Father's face turned a dark red, from anger and humiliation.

"Father, I know you." I moved my hand over the table and put it over his. "And this isn't like you. Please, tell me the truth." I gave him my puppy-dog eyes, staring into his mind and trying to read it. " 'To be or not to be, that is the question'."

I knew that Father hated it when I quoted from Shakespeare, and it usually worked when I wanted something. (Who wants to hear old phrases repeated over and over again?) But, right now he was just not buying it. (What ever happened to the good old Shakespeare days?)

"We'll talk about this later," Father said, his face still red. "Now clean your plate and go to bed."

Picking up my plate and pouting, I got up from the table, dish in hand, and stomped into the kitchen. After dropping my plate off at the sink, I ran up to my room, only to find Mother and Father having a deep conversation. They must have left the table evasively when I was in the kitchen. Supporting my body against the wall, my ears perked up, I planned to eavesdrop to feed my curiosity.

"Jerry, why didn't you tell her? You know that we need to start with the packing and cleaning!" I heard my mother complain.

"Oh, Sarah, this is going to change her life so much. I mean, a new school, new friends, and even a completely different area, full of people with strange accents. She's going to be the only one saying 'mum,' I'm telling you! She's not going to like America, even if we are boarding the Ship of Dreams: _Titanic_!…"

And that's all I heard, except for the sound of my sobs echoing in my mind.


	3. Life Doesn't Go as Planned

**Chapter 2**

**Life Doesn't Go as Planned**

I woke with my tears stained across my cheeks and my eyes red and puffy. I'd been crying all night, and soon I just gave up entirely of crying and fell asleep with only my mind left to wonder. Crying doesn't help, for life doesn't go as planned.

Mother knocked on my door, said that breakfast was ready, and walked down the stairs with her shoes tapping away.

The sound of Mother's shoes made me think of when I used to take ballet. All girls were suppose to take ballet, just to know the basic steps and such. But I disliked it so much, Mother just took me out of it, giving me a lecture on the way home that maybe she should sign me up to do tap-dancing classes with the boys instead. I found this humorous, but Mother sent me a glare and said, "That wasn't a joke."

As I brushed my brown hair, straight as paper, and got ready for the morning's breakfast, I kept thinking of New York city, some thousands of miles away. Why would Father want to move to such a stuffy place, so far away from home?

Putting my brush down and tying a white ribbon in my hair, I walked down the stairs to find breakfast sitting ready at the table. Mother looked upset, as if she'd been crying too, and Father looked frustrated and in distress. Everyone must have had a bad night.

Without a simple good morning or a kiss on the cheek, I sat down at the table and stared at my lap. The only thing I noticed was my ankle-length, light blue dress all touched up and flattened out and my napkin which lay there all unfolded and ready to catch any remains of food or drink like a hungry dog sitting next to a counter. With a sniffle and a mumbled "Morning," we all started our breakfast.

It was the most quiet it's ever been. Mother was usually spot on with some book or event happening in Southampton, while Father usually talked about some promotion in his job. As the best landscaper in England, it was now clear to my why we were moving to the New World.

Father's job was transferred to New York, where the city people were planning to tear up some old buildings and they wanted Father to landscape them. Rolling my eyes and poking at my eggs in embarrassment, I yelled at my brain for not picking that up sooner.

After I put my plate in the sink and left the room, Mother and Father got caught up in a striking conversation again.

"Jerry, she needs time! In a week, on April tenth, we will be boarding the_ Titanic_ to New York in America. America! The New World, Jerry! With those Americans and their funny accents. Ones that don't even know what a biscuit is," Mother fought. (For those who don't know what a biscuit is, I believe you Americans call them cookies.)

"Calm down, Sarah. I can't put down this offer. It's a once in a lifetime offer," Father said. He sounded annoyed by Mother's bickering.

" 'A once in a lifetime offer.' Oh, please, Jerry, our poor little Danielle can't handle such a big change. Everything she's used to, flushed down the drain! She'll be forced to go to a new school and make new friends…"

"Or she can stay here."

"Stay here? By herself? With no one to look after her? I think not!"

I sneaked back into my room just as Father began to yell at how maybe it was just a better idea to leave me here instead of drag a teenager with an attitude with him.

Walking through the park and to Jenny's house, I breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed the warm spring sun. Nothing was better than a nice ten minute walk down Main Street on a refreshing, beautiful day.

The air was cool on your face, the sun was warm on your back, and just about every boy from my school was swimming in the pond located at Fisherman's Park.

Now taking the shortcut to Jenny's house, I actually did notice some of the boys from my school swimming in the pond. One year a rumor spread that blood-sucking leeches lived in there, but when some boy got pushed in and started screaming for help, he found out that all there was was goldfish or catfish and such types. Basically, they were harmless little creatures living in there.

I made a quick dash past the pond, hoping no one saw me, my leather shoes making soft sounds across the hard earth.

I was trying not to breath, even, but even with my success-

"Hey, girly, want to come over and take a swim?"

I turned around to find no other than Nicholas Anderson, a boy of full luxury and practically drowning in money.

"What do you want, Anderson?" I spat at him, hoping that my rude temper would keep him from pushing me in the pond.

"Come here," he said, waving his hand. His soft, blue-green eyes and sand-colored hair was enough for me to just follow. My own hair flew in the breeze behind me, the white ribbon tied in there staying firmly in place.

I kept a straight expression, and moved rather quickly when a boy I recognized as Albert Grenson splashed in the pond. He was trying to do a cannonball, but it turned into a belly flop; well, that is, more of a bottom-belly-flop. He held his arms to his chest and threw himself off the dry land, slowly moving forward into a dive. Before he knew it, he landed on his bottom and splashed face first like a rock skipping across water.

I twitched at the sight of a bunch of boys wearing nothing but their swimming suits, jumping in the pond and celebrating the beginning of their short, one-week vacation.

"Want to take a dip?" Nicholas asked me while I darted my eyes at the boys splashing at each other.

"I'd rather not, no thank you." I said it rather irritably and urgent. My mind said to run but my feet stayed planted in the ground.

"Suit yourself."

And when I turned away to walk back to Jenny's house, thinking that Nicholas was in the pond, I was in utter shock when someone took hold of my ankle and pulled me in.

When I hit the water all I felt was the cool sensation of its freshness pricking at my skin and filling my lungs. I frantically paddled to the surface, spitting out excess fluid and gasping for air.

"What was with that, Anderson?" I exclaimed angrily. My body shivered, my clothes stuck to me, my dress floating up in the water, and my hair, soaked, dripped down my back. Even worse, my powdered makeup had come off, and the ugly blemish on my nose was completely visible, red from irritation. I grunted in annoyance and covered it with my hand.

"Thought you'd want to take a dive, American," he said.

"What in God's name are you talking about?"

"You're moving to America next week on April tenth. You little traitor!"

"How did you know?"

"That curly blond gal can't keep her mouth shut," Albert piped in.

"Jennifer told you guys?"

"Like Albert said, she can't keep her mouth shut. She seems to talk a lot when she's miserable," Nicholas said.

Getting out of the pond, I felt the water squish between my stockings. I bent down to remove them, my shoes also. I felt as though my dress was going to drag me down; drops of lake water dripped off of me like I was my own little rain cloud.

"That's no way to talk about Jenny," I said while squeezing the water out of my hair. I took out my wet handkerchief, squeezed it out, then attempted to dry my face. "She might blurt out things when she's miserable, but me moving to the New World is none of your business."

Nicholas got out of the pond, and, while putting his hands (also wet) on my shoulders, said, "It is all my business." He shook me gently, my face turning a pinch red. "Because I'm moving there, too."

It was silent. I kept my face straight, staring into his blue-green eyes that reflected the sun, trying to tell him that I could care less. "Well, since you're moving as well, tell me: what ship is leaving next week?"

With his hands still on my shoulders and a smile of triumph on his face, he said, "No other than the White Star Line's best: the R.M.S_. Titanic_."

I gave him a look of fake confusion. "Well, okay. Bye."

I turned to walk away, but Nicholas got my arm and pulled me to face him. I gave him a nasty look, and, just so he could let go of me, spat at his feet. Unladylike as it was, I didn't mind letting go of my ladylike demeanor for one second.

The boys in the pond laughed as Nicholas looked at his bare feet in horror. "Why you-" he began, but his hand was already off my arm, and I was starting to walk away.

"See you later, boys," I said, winking and flirtatiously waving at them in the pond and the red-faced Nicholas. I then flipped my hair behind my shoulder, my head held high, as I thought, _Maybe this trip won't be so bad._

_...  
><em>

After my visit to Jenny's house, the sun was setting in the distance, and bright orange and red colors covered the sky like a blanket.

Still having to take the path next to the pond, I held my breath as I waited for the sound of laughing boys and water splashing. But, to my relief, it was empty. Except for one boy who stared out into the pond, his feet in the water.

Just out of guilt, I walked over to him and said, "Hey."

Nicholas Anderson looked up and gave me a sad kind of look with a pinch of previous anger to it.

"Come on, Anderson. You were only bothering me, that's all. Get over it." I sat next to him and took off my stockings and shoes so I could put my feet in the water too.

The water was cool, much too cold now to swim in. Instead of Nicholas wearing his bathing suit, he now wore a regular day outfit of a white collared shirt with brown trousers.

He stared at the colors in the pond, the water rippling as frogs took a dip for the evening.

"So," I began, "what's so great about this _Titanic_ ship anyway?"

Nicholas looked up at me, a bright smile on my face. I was only here to cheer him up, not to spit in his face this time. "She's 882 ½ feet long; that's almost four city blocks! Just imagine that! If stood upright, she'd be taller than all the buildings we have today, around 175 feet. With her nine decks and four funnels, she's as tall as an eleven story building! Just imagine it! My father said that they call her the Ship of Dreams. Silk bed covers, gourmet food, Chinese porcelain dishes… She's like a luxury hotel on water!"

I tried to imagine what Nicholas just told me, but I just couldn't picture the size. "She's so big! Is she new to the White Star Line?"

"Yep, her maiden voyage. She's the most biggest ship in the world! A real titanic ship!"

We were both quiet, our minds filled of the exquisite and large _Titanic_. Nicholas finally broke the silence. "Well, I've got to go. I have to start packing, since I'm moving in four days."

I nodded. "I should do the same."

Neither of us moved, even though we were both tempted to leave.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Danielle," Nicholas said.

"It was nice talking to you too, Anderson. I needed to know more about that ship," I said.

"And by the way," he added, "call me Nick."

"All right… Nick."

And with that, we both got our feet out of the pond and walked away, each going the other direction with our shoes in hand.


	4. The Ship of Dreams

**Chapter 3**

**The Ship of Dreams**

**April 10th, 1912**

Today, no one could change their minds of the mistake they had made. I will be boarding the R.M.S_. Titanic_, this morning, this hour, this very moment. All I grew up to know will be lost in the informality of New York, strewn across my mind as I learned new things that Americans needed to know.

Putting the last of my things into the automobile's trunk, I frowned as I looked at my old house. Lucy, my eight-year old King Charles Spaniel, jumped on my knees, sensing my sadness and trying to cheer me up. I eventually shook her off, and she fell with a sudden yelp. Instead, I picked her up and hugged her. I had her ever since I was a child, and she was all I cared about. The older she got, the more I worried. I took out the locket with my initials, _DGF_, carved into it.

Jenny gave me the locket yesterday, as a symbol of our deep friendship. I opened it up to find a small clock and a picture of me and Jenny at around age ten. I smiled as I saw this picture.

The only things I packed were the things that were portable. I left behind my furniture and my home. I even left behind my memories. Besides, who needs memories now? It was a perfect time to start fresh: to start fresh_ in America_.

The New World scared me just as much as it fascinated me. A whole different area, filled with people with American accents. What was_ that_ suppose to mean?

Mother bought me a book on the American words, how it differs from the original English language, and America's history. I didn't care for this at all, and so Mother finally just gave up and kept the book for herself.

Now I entered the automobile, where Lucy laid on my lap. My gloved hand smoothed out her fur as my large white sun hat with the green ribbon protected my eyes from the sun. I was wearing a green and white dress, long and straight, with tons of buttons going up and down in two even rows. I wore black boots for the occasion.

The motor started, and soon we were driving away. Away from home and closer to the New World. I only looked back once and never looked back again.

..

"Oh my God! Just look at that thing, Father!" I exclaimed as I stared up at the ship they called _Titanic_. "It is absolutely enormous!"

"It sure is, Danny," Father said. "Now take your things and let's see what it looks like on the inside."

I held Lucy's leash in my gloved hand as I also carried my luggage.

The closer I walked up to the luxury liner, the more I felt like a mouse. It was so big compared to me. _I felt like a mouse_. And that was _not _a fun feeling.

I walked up the steady gangplank into the first class boarding area, my parents' arms linked and walking in front of me. Lucy the K.C. Spaniel followed next to me, her nose in the air as she sniffed the fresh new paint of the _Titanic_.

"Ready or not," I whispered, "here we come."

...

Occupying stateroom B-21 was a real shock. The walls were a maroon color with golden outlines and rivets surrounding the frame of the walls. The sofas were filled with soft cotton and bouncy springs and covered with a soft, red-with-patterns fabric. A cherry wooden table stood as the center, a tray with a teapot and two Chinese porcelain cups on the top. Also, a plush carpet so soft it made my feet sink in. And I had this all to myself!

There were two rooms connected to this one: the bedroom and bathroom. I checked out the bedroom, ignoring the bathroom because I already took a peek and it was just an average bathroom.

The bedroom had a queen-sized bed with a mahogany frame. The walls and floor were the same as the sitting room, and a mahogany dresser and vanity sat in the corner. It was rather small, but plenty nice. A wooden nightstand with a bolted-in lamp sat next to the bed like a mouse, it being small and the bed looming over it.

There was also a wardrobe which I forgot to mention, and on top were four life jackets that were white, hard, and rather uncomfortable. Inside laid a neatly folded woolen blanket with _TITANIC_ sewn on.

The rooms were a lap of luxury, something I had never thought could be so exquisite. My large sun hat hung on the coat hanger; I took a white rose with my gloved hand from the vase that was on top of the sitting room table. Placing it in my hair, I walked out of the room, Lucy at my heels, heading for the deck.

...

The A-Deck Promenade was stunning. Deck chairs with small tables crowded some, and people with fur coats or feathery hats huddled together as they strolled around. England was just mist in the distance now.

My outfit was rather neat and clean, but nothing like what the people on deck wore. I had taken off my green and white jacket I had worn to board, and had on a white silk dress with laced layers on the skirt that reached a little below the ankle. A forest green sash was tied around my waist and into a bow on my back. White knee-length stockings (which made everything hot and itchy) and black boots made up my bottom half, and my hair, piled up in a loose bun, with a white rose and simple, green ribbon headdress in it made up my upper half. Nothing so simple could describe what the real upper class were wearing.

Lucy nipped at my heels and circled my legs. Looking out at the ocean made me feel calm, and a headache I had earlier go away. Life at sea was truly brilliant.

"Told you I'd see you on board."

I jerked around to find Nicholas. "Anderson, you gave me a fright!" I exclaimed.

"What did we say?"

"Fine. _Nick_."

We both looked down at the ocean, staring at the lapping blue water.

"A luxury, isn't it?" he asked me.

"Truly."

We were quiet for a few minutes, breathing in the salty air and absorbing the sun's rays. "Nicholas, do you believe _Titanic _could sink?"

"What? Danielle, that's impossible! What made you think that?"

And the flashback came into my mind.

_I was out on the deck, looking at the last sight of England, when a conversation caught my attention._

"_I'm telling you, Margaret, this ship don't feel right to me!" a woman said.._

"_Calm down, Janine, this journey is meant to be remembered," Margaret said to other woman, named Janine._

"_A maiden voyage! Ugh! Such bad luck, I tell you!" She took a sip out of her teacup and put it back down on the deck table._

"_Get your sea legs, Janine, and stop complaining!"_

"_Complaining? _Complaining?_ Dear Lord, I am _not_ complaining! I am clearly expressing my opinions and thoughts!"_

_Margaret rolled her eyes._

"_I read a few years ago a book titled 'The Wreck of the _Titan.' _Such a well written book, I must add, by Morgan Robertson, but so sad! It's about a ship named the _Titan_, yes, notice the resemblance, that goes on her maiden voyage to New York. Just like us right now! _Titan, Titanic, _just add the _-ic_, and both sailing to New York! She's even the most grandest and largest ship in her time! And, to make things even more worrisome, the ship hits an iceberg about halfway there and sinks! _Sinks_! Do you believe a ship so grand could sink?"_

"_Janine, darling, calm down. _Titanic _is noted 'unsinkable.' I was talking to Thomas Andrews, the ship's builder and designer, and he said that she could float with four out of her sixteen watertight compartments full, whatever that means. If an iceberg hits it would most likely fill only three, and, if the blow is hard enough, four, but not possibly more than that! So no, I do not think a ship so grand could sink," Margaret finalized._

"_Oh, please, Margaret! I wasn't finished!" Janine said, her face turning a ghostly white. "When the ship sinks, most of her passengers are lost and perished from the cold because there is not enough lifeboats!"_

"_Such rubbish!"_

When I was done telling Nick the story, he shook his head. "Impossible! That lady is right about calling it rubbish!"

"Please, Nick, were you listening? You know much about this ship, so do you know how many lifeboats are aboard?" I asked.

"Of course!" he said. "Sixteen with four collapsible ones."

"And when they're filled to capacity?"

"1,178 passengers and crew," he said confidently. But then his face fell. "Out of an approximate 2,223."

"Exactly! So, if this ship does sink, not saying that it will, most of us will die."

And so our conversation ended.

...

A few hours later, at around 7:00 PM, we arrived at Cherbourg, France, where Nick's aunt was to board.

"She sends me a postcard from France every month ever since I was seven. I have a whole bunch now," Nick said while we waited with the crowd of people on the promenade deck who waited for relatives or friends to board.

"Amazing! May I see them some time?"

"Sure. Come anytime."

Just then, a voice I did not recognize exclaimed, "Nicky! Look at you!"

I turned around just in time to get out of the way of a large woman wearing several fur coats run up to Nick and give him a huge hug.

"Nicky, look at how much you've grown!" the woman gaped.

"Aunt Molly," he said, "look at yourself."

The woman blushed, kissed him on the cheek, and left with a bunch of stewards struggling under her luggage behind her.

Her name was Margaret Brown. Most people didn't call her Molly, but it was a family name. Rebellious as she was, Nick said, she married a man not for his money, but for love, and ended up a little less than middle-class but more than third. Now, her husband had struck gold, and people have been calling her "new money."

I giggled when I saw Nick's face. "Hey, _Nicky_, you've got some lipstick right there," I said, pointing to his cheek.

He groaned, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped it off.

"This stuff is horrendous. How do you girls deal with it?" Nick kept rubbing his cheek until it was more red from being rasped than it was from being smothered with lip stain.

We started walking together to the find a better view of the departing ship, Nick still rubbing his cheek.

"Two things, Nick," I said. "One, you're rubbing that cheek so much the skin's going to come off. And two, let me tell you something about myself." Nick rolled his eyes. "And one trait is that I _don't_ wear lipstick."

**Author's Note: I know I described Danielle's cabin a little too exquisitely (like mostly the Millionaire's Suite) but it gives it some character. I want to make this story was accurate as possible, but sometimes overexaggerating things can make it so much better.**


	5. Setting Sail

**Chapter 4**

**Setting Sail**

**April 11, 1912**

The next day we were sailing from Queenstown, Ireland, with nothing ahead of us but sea. The water was so clear and still, it was hard to believe it was the ocean where most ships sank. I mean, _Titanic_ can't sink. _Can it?_

By the time lunch came, I could still remember those two little tugboats bringing most of the third class passengers aboard. I knew what they were all seeking: a land full of freedom, justice, and money. I remembered Jenny, who found a sudden interest in the _Titanic_, began to research as if it was her sailing across the sea, not I. She said that the poorest people in Ireland moved to America so they could make money after the horrific potato famine 50 years back. Others around the world came to the New World for a better life.

Just thinking of Jenny made me homesick. Why did Father have to get that job transfer? Today would have been a normal day filled with normal daily activities. Even the thought of chores was better than this! So far I have received mixed feelings over this ship: anger for leaving home, fear for all the sinkable ship rumors, awe from the ship's grandeur, and loneliness for the thought of left-behind memories.

I sighed as I bent over the rail to look at the ocean. So free and calm. Why couldn't I be more like water? Like beginning new lives was so easy. If water could slip through my fingers at ease, why can't I start a new life without my mind burning of frustration?

It was all so true. My mind couldn't handle the thought of new scenery, a new home, a different accent, and a new life. I could just picture what the kids at school will be saying when I don't show up to class:

"Did you hear? Danielle and that Nicholas boy are sailing on the _Titanic_, right now!"

Then I thought what Christa, the most popular girl in school, would say:

"Can you believe her? _I_ should be on that ship! _I _should be sailing on the _Titanic_, not her! What? First class? This is so not right! That spoiled English girl who uses her time to pull weeds can't be sailing in such high honor and class!"

Thinking of Christa infuriated me, but just thinking of all my fellow classmates made my eyes tear up. This was my new life. A life in America, where everyone seemed to want to be. Except for me. Why, just why, can't I accept I am an American girl now?

...

"Come on, Nick, this is where all the fun is!" I exclaimed as I pulled Nick along with me. We were headed to the kennels to see the dogs. "You have always wanted to meet John Jacob Astor, right? Well, now's your chance! You can walk and care for his very own Airedale, Kitty!"

Nick groaned. "Kitty? That doesn't sound like a name a millionaire would choose."

"Say that to Jenny, who researched about the passengers and ship while you weren't around to bother us about it!"

I was skipping towards the elevators on B-Deck, knowing that the kennels were on the boat deck. Nick sulked behind me with his hands in his pockets.

"Why not just take the stairs? We're on B-Deck, the elevator drops us off at A, and we still have to climb up a set of stairs to get to the boat deck," Nick said.

"You want to tire yourself out this voyage or what, Mr. Know-It-All?" I said. But I knew what he was thinking: _What was the point of taking the elevator if we were to still climb stairs?_

"You're so spoiled," Nick grumbled as the elevator door opened.

"You are too," I fought. "A-Deck, please."

"At least I don't think climbing an extra flight of stairs is manual labor."

"Touché."

Though I've got to admit, the ride was pointless, but it was my first time in an elevator. What I never told Nick was that I always climbed the stairs; my parents made me, saying it was healthy, even if we had to climb twenty stories. My mother refused for me to work outside in the garden; she said that because I was 13 now (this was three years back) I should focus on more social things, not work. Taking the stairs was my "only form of exercise," she fought.

A smile was pasted on my face as I the gates were opened and we exited the elevator, pleased that the first one I'd ever been on was as luxurious and elegant as _Titanic._

Turning the corner and walking up the small flight of stairs, I was stunned by the grandness of the wood carvings on the A-Deck Grand Staircase. I passed the clock with "Honor and Glory Crowning Time," walked a few more paces and opened the door that led to the boat deck. I found myself in a small space with three doors and still-sulking Nick behind me. Behind him was the door to the Grand Staircase we had just exited, and the one to the right side of me led to the Gymnasium. The one in front of me said "Boat Deck," so I held on to the knob and opened the door, letting the cold air embrace me. Bright sunlight made us both squint. Adrenaline rushing, I turned around to pull Nick with me, but saw he was sputtering and rubbing his eyes.

"Could you cut your hair, 'cause I think it cut my cornea," he complained.

I rolled my eyes and took his wrist, pulling him along. It was true, my hair was long. Right now it reached below my shoulders at a rather long length, straight as always, but this time I braided part of it and tied it with a ribbon in the back to make it seem more formal. Though, I was getting eyed at for not wearing my hair up; a crime, apparently, that I could've cared less about.

For a second my mind wondered to my appearance. Was I too dressy? I wore lipstick and some blue eye shadow. Clothing wise, I had on a bright, white dress that reached a little below the ankle with many white clothed layers underneath that made it poof out a little, white knee-high socks that actually were a little bit below the knee as well, and black heels with pearls embroidered on the strap. To just show I was in the higher class, I wore white gloves with lace designs.

"I can walk myself, you know," Nick said, interrupting my thoughts.

I let go of his wrist with a look of disgust on my face. I rolled my eyes again and started to walk away without looking back. But I knew he was following since I could hear his leather shoes pounding against the wood. When I stopped to open the door to the kennels, I looked down at his feet and raised an eyebrow.

They were so big on him they could have been for a circus clown his size.

"You also know, this is why you don't let your mother shop for your necessities," I said, pointing to his gigantic shoes.

His face flushed red as he started mumbling, "They were my great-grandfather's, and they have been passed down by generations."

"Hm," I said, letting go of the knob and putting my finger to my chin. I then put my gloved hand on his shoulder and said, "Darling, it looks like you didn't inherit the gene of overly-sized feet."

I smirked and opened the door this time, ignoring Nick's annoyed expression. The many barks of dogs greeted us. "Jenny told me there are nine dogs on this ship," I said, taking off my gloves and stuffing them in the small pocket sewed on my dress. "Some stay in their owners cabins, like Frou-Frou, the Bishops' dog, you know, we went to their wedding." I put a hand out for a Chow Chow to sniff it, and then pat his head.

Nick didn't answer, so I continued. "Some, like Mr. Astor, don't want to clean up after their dogs, so they leave them here in the ship's kennel."

I ran to the other side of the room, noticing the large dog named Kitty in the corner. He was polite and friendly, but obviously spoiled with his diamond collar. "Hey Nick, I found the Astors' dog."

No reply.

"Nick?" I looked around the room and he was gone. "Geez, some friend you turned out to be." When I turned around to pet Kitty, he started barking and running around in circles in his small cage, his tongue hanging out.

"What's gotten into you?" I said. Kitty now began shaking his tail, his rump in the air.

The sound of footsteps was heard behind me, and I turned around and gasped. When I saw that the person meant no harm, I put my hand to my heart to calm it's constant beating that could be heard pumping in my brain.

"Why, sir, you gave me a fright," I said in my English accent, a little thicker than usual.

"Sorry, miss, just came to feed the spoiled dog his proper meal," the boy replied. He was around my age with the same kind of accent like I.

He opened the cage and poured some dog food in Kitty's bowl, quickly closing the cage when he was done. Kitty bent down at his bowl and ate hungrily.

"You must be the worker here in the kennel, caring for the dogs," I said. He nodded.

"I could hear you talking about these dogs across the room." That's when I noticed a storage room that had been rummaged through in the corner. _How stupid. Why didn't I notice the obvious, open door in the first place?_

"Well, my friend back in England researched about this ship in her spare time. Kind of odd when she wouldn't be."

"Your friend's right, though," he said.

There was a silence as I turned my eyes back to Kitty, but I knew that the boy didn't take his eyes off of me.

"So, where are you from?" I asked. "Do you bunk in cabins like the rest of the passengers?"

"I'm from Rochester, England. Yes, I travel like any passenger but come here to feed, water, and walk the dogs three times a day."

I nodded and gave him my hand. "My name's Danielle. Danielle Fitz."

He didn't take my hand, but did say, "No need to shake hands. Right now you're acting too formal."

I smiled. He did say, though, "My name's John Harris." This time he put out his hand and I looked at it quizzically. A small smile appeared on my face and I said, "Look who's being royal now."

We both laughed until he finally asked me, "So, you like dogs? Well, today you're going to have some fun."

...

"My parents met in Paris twenty years ago, finally moving to Southampton when my mother was expecting me."

Kitty tugged at his ruby-studded leash as John and I walked the many dogs around the boat deck.

"Have you, uh, ever been to Paris?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No. I've stayed in England most of my life."

There was an awkward silence as John and I concentrated on walking the dogs.

"Danielle," he finally asked, "do you want to move to America?"

The smile on my once exalt face turned into a frown of loathing. "I condemn it so."

"Why?"

"Because," I said. "I loved my England life, and now I'm expected to change, just because my father got a job transfer. Not that my mother could do anything. The question that keeps haunting my mind is, how can they put so much of this pressure on me?"

John nodded. "My family did the same with me once. We used to live in Sweden, until they decided to pack up and move to our country."

"And moving to America is no big deal for you? No change?"

"Well, of course it is. The thought of America makes me feel… shaken."

"Why would you be afraid?"

John and I stopped as I looked deep into his green eyes. For once I noticed that his hair was blond, and that he was taller than me by a couple inches. "Because I don't want that feeling of pressure and new energy in me again. It put much anxiety on my shoulders. I had tension headaches for the first two months. I wonder how long those are going to last this time?"

John shoved his hands in his pockets and started to walk away, slouching.

"Wait, John," I said, catching up with him. "America might be something us English will enjoy."

"How?"

"Well, all their funny words and strange accents," I said. "It's quite different than what we're used to. It will be a new experience! Isn't that what life should be? Full of new experiences?"

But no smile of humor or any other emotion passed John's face. I frowned. _I need something more convincing…_

"Fine, be that way. Why not think positively? Like Shakespeare himself said, ambition should be made of sterner stuff."

A sly smile appeared on John's face. "_Julius Caesar_? Is that the best you've got?"

I rolled my eyes, put my hand in front of him to stop, and sarcastically started saying, "Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

John started laughing as a smile started to stick on my face.

"_Romeo and Juliet_? Danielle, you're crazy. That's _way_ too original."

"Wait, that's not all!" I squealed. I cleared my throat, paused for dramatic effect, and said, " 'I know a bank where the wild thyme blows; Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows; Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine; With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine'."

I curtsied and John clapped sarcastically.

"_A Midsummers Night's Dream_? At a time like this?"

I laughed as we started walking again. "My mother made me read Shakespeare. She made me memorize some of the most remembered quotes, or anything elegant."

"So she found the comedy acceptable?" John still had a smile on his face.

I shrugged. "That's my mother."

We walked in utter silence as the sun started to set slowly in the background.

"What time is it?" I asked John.

He looked at his watch and said, "Five."

I nodded and said, "We should be getting back."

On the way back to the kennels, I added, "Oh, John, I forgot to tell you, I have a dog on board. She stays in my cabin, but I'll bring her tomorrow, okay?"

Opening my cabin door, I ran to my suitcase to grab the series of Shakespeare books my mother made me bring with me to the New World. John begged for another day with me, and how can I say no to a friend like him?

But when John asked me to bring my Shakespeare books along… something sounded uncanny.

I ran to the deck, leaving the books behind after I realized that Nick had been missing for the past couple of hours.

I scavenged the boat deck, looking past people with large top or sun hats, hoping to catch a glimpse of a scrawny boy with sand-colored hair.

In my rush to find him, I didn't notice the young woman and her pack of spoiled adults walk right past me. I ran into the her without knowing I would.

Regaining my balance to apologize, I noticed that the young female was no older than I was. She had shocking red curls, but something about her face told a much bigger mystery.

Her appearance and expression made me stutter, and at the end I nodded foolishly until she walked out of sight, following the group that seemed to carry her on into an endless crowd of high society and riches.

Moving on, I was soon passing the stairs and sole entryway from the top decks to the highest deck on the stern: the poop deck. It was reserved only for steerage, but yet I could open the gate and walk down and join them if I wanted to. Right now there was a whole bunch laughing and talking with their friends, and so I took a break from my search to look at the crowd of happy people.

One out of them all seemed to stand out the most. When I saw him an awful tremor vibrated in my head, yet the man held no importance or even familiarity. Just a dirty-blond-haired young male with a sketchbook on his lap. I couldn't help but feel strangely attached to him.

I felt like my whole world was vibrating, and so I had to look away and leave the happy group so the dizziness could clear up.

_What could that man possibly hold for me?_

_...  
><em>

"Nicholas, where have you been? You ditched me in the kennel! I thought you wanted to see the Astors' dog, quite spoiled by the way…," I said when I saw Nick in the distance talking to someone.

When I reached his side, I saw a bunch of handsome boys possibly my age or a couple of years older with their hair sleeked back with oil.

One smiled at me, probably the leader of the rest, and seemed to flirt with facial expressions as I stared at him with a crazed eye.

"Nick, who are your-," I hesitated, "-friends?"

"Danielle, this is Charles, Thomas, and Ryan," Nick said.

I gave them all, especially Charles, a sarcastic smile. "Pleasure," I said.

"Nick, I never knew you had a girlfriend," Thomas sneered while slapping hands with Ryan.

I felt my face flush with anger and embarrassment. "Boyfriend? Poppycock, of course. Nicholas and I are just friends," I reassured.

"Hey," Charles said, "let the boy talk by himself."

I glared at Charles.

He smiled back and said, "Darling, please-"

"Why, of course, _darling_," I said. "Nicholas can speak for himself."

And before Charles was able to put his arm around my shoulder, I was walking through the B-Deck hallways soon enough.

I was greatly disappointed when I saw that Charles' family was to eat dinner with us that night. He was the leader of all of those boys out there, with his golden-blond hair and pretty convincing smirk.

I thanked God when none of the others joined us. I could make out Thomas and Ryan scattered throughout the large area of the Grand Staircase. Thomas was a brunet with shaggy hair and light brown eyes. Ryan was the shortest of them all, with black hair, green eyes and freckles.

"May I escort you to the table, miss?" Charles said nonchalantly while giving me his arm. I gave him a smile that was supposed to be sarcastic but ended up more like a real smile. A blush crept up my neck from his sudden politeness.

"I heard you are fond of Shakespeare," he said as we started following my parents and his as well through the large dining room.

"Yes, I am. In fact," I added, trying to get rid of him, "_Macbeth _is my favorite one."

Charles cringed. "The one where that man jabs his eyes out? I never knew you were so fond of… bloodshed."

"Well, not much," I said, feeling a pinch of honesty rise through me. "I am more into the romance, drama, and adventure novels. Relating to Shakespeare, I have to say that my favorites are _Romeo and Juliet_, _Hamlet_, and _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

Charles put on a smirk. "Wow," he said, sounding the least bit impressed. "We have the same tastes."

I tried not to gag, roll my eyes, or mimic him in any way. He must have been lying when the word "_Wow"_ came out of his mouth. No way could a boy like _Romeo and Juliet_: the thought made me try to contain laughter and blush endlessly.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, the color of blond was in front of me. "Oh," I said, my face shading an even darker red and making a wider smile. "John, it's you."

I wished right then I could have thrown Charles off my arm and let John take it instead. Then the color of sand was next to him. "Nick," I said, sounding the least bit happy or surprised. "I need some space." Thinking of disgusting Charles again, I added, "I throw up when I'm claustrophobic." And soon a rush of cold air and a blow off my arm was felt.

"That's better," I said, sounding relieved. I winked at John, and I could see a smile of humor pass his face.

"Nicholas, you and Charles have met." I then nodded to John and said, "This is John. He runs the kennel of the ship, but is just a regular passenger traveling in first-class."

I then put out my arm and said, "John, will you like to join us for dinner?"

He nodded his head, took my arm, and said, "Certainly."

We walked off with Nick and Charles stunned.

"How'd it go?" I heard Nick ask.

"She likes Shakespeare," was all Charles said, and I swear I could picture him rolling his eyes.

"Some act out there," John said as we neared our table.

"It runs in the family. My grandmother was the last. My mother never bothered to try."

"And you?"

I thought about it. "I am just an English girl. I am too young to dream."

"That's absurd," he said. "Dreaming is what gets us through the days, mostly through boredom. When a child grows, so does their personality if they aspire, no matter how silly it sounds."

"But, still… I cannot dream."

"Has that stopped you?"

I smiled. "No. How can such a curious girl like me stop the rush of imagination that pulses through these veins?"

"Exactly what I thought."

Sitting down at the table, it was full of people in my life right now: my parents, Nick and his parents, Charles and his parents, and John. But there were three extra seats over at the other end. _Curiouser and curiouser this voyage becomes, _I thought.

My mother brought up her glass and hit it lightly with a spoon, making a chiming noise. "Everyone, I would like to say that there will be three more acquaintances sitting with us today." She smiled, whispered something to Father, who started passing a piece of fancy paper around the table. "And those people will be Ruth DeWitt Bukater, her daughter Rose and her fiancé, Caledon Hockley."

Everyone looked as though they were in shock, even John. I must have looked confused and curious, because John said, "You've never heard of the Hockleys?"

I nodded my head and said, "Yes, many times. But I just don't get the whole deal. Who cares about his money? You should treat him like everyone else."

John stiffened. "Right."

When the piece of paper, identified as a wedding invitation, was passed to me, I couldn't help but cringe in pain as I saw the names printed on the front. I felt like my head was ripping in half. At first I thought,_ "Aneurysm, hospital, stat!"_ but it completely went away when I looked at John.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," I said.

That's when the whole picture came into view. There was the same woman I ran into above deck, with the red hair. I tried not to faint as the searing pain returned.


	6. Feelings

**Chapter 5**

**Feelings**

When I saw her, the excruciating pain returned and went away, then returned again. She still had that expression on her face like she witnessed a murder and was forced not to tell anyone, but I knew better than to ask what she was thinking.

For the first time I noticed how she really looked. She was extremely beautiful, the most prettiest woman I've ever seen, with porcelain skin and red ruby lips. When I looked into her eyes they were a perfect mixture of blue and green, but it seemed like the ice-blue color was seeping out and covering the beautiful emerald tint.

"I am pleased to introduce you all to the DeWitt Bukaters and Mr. Hockley," Mother announced.

Ruth DeWitt Bukater smiled slyly, Rose never looked up, and Caledon was giving a dazzling smile to the people at the table.

I leaned down and whispered in John's ear, "That woman," I pointed to Rose, "Rose. Does she look… _depressed_ to you?"

John looked up at the redhead and said, "It's none of my concern."

But I couldn't help but keep asking questions. "Do you know if this was an arranged marriage?"

We kept our voices down as we dug into the appetizers the many waiters had served us. We didn't want someone, even Nick, though he was my friend, hear us.

"I heard that it was," John said. "A bunch of women I kind of heard talking about it said that it was arranged, but seemed to be shushing each other and keeping their voices down. I guess nobody should know."

I nodded my head and didn't say a word after that.

As an hour ticked on and our entrees arrived, I was pretty much hunched over from the pain in my head. Anytime I even glanced at Rose, I couldn't help but think of the dirty-blond-haired man I saw down in steerage.

John, worried as he was, leaned down and asked in my ear, "Are you sure you're all right?"

I tried to straighten my back but found the pain too excruciating. "Yes," I laughed, almost maniacally, "I'm fine."

As another hour ticked on, the pain was slowly going away but yet grew stronger anytime I glanced at Rose. That's when I saw her holding a finger down so hard on her fork, I was sure I was the only one to see a drop of blood fall and stain the oriental carpet.

It looked like she was slowly losing it. Whatever it was, it seemed like she strongly disliked her life at the moment. _Leave it be, _my mind pleaded.

When she asked to be excused and left the table, I was practically holding myself down on my seat. Before I knew it my bottom convulsed off the chair, but my arms were strong enough to hold my body down, so basically my chair jerked backwards a little, causing me lots of attention.

"Danielle," John said, almost loud enough for everyone to hear. "What is the matter with you?"

The shakiness throughout my body shrunk, and soon the vibrations and headache disappeared. Everyone's attention was back on each other, and I sighed with relief.

_It's over. But what happened?_

I thought it was over. But soon my vision was being clouded, and my senses were being replaced with something else happening presently, but somewhere else. Sobs were echoing in my ears as I excused myself, rushed to the deck, and looked at the ocean. Then it all went black.

...

_My mind drifted farther and farther away from reality, only to stop to see a young woman holding on to the railings of the stern as the rest of her body stayed suspended in the air. If her hands and feet weren't planted on the rail like they were now, then she surely would've fallen. And as my mind saw these images, I pleaded the woman to just come back over the rail. Just like God answering my prayers, I saw a young man with unruly dirty-blond hair and worn-out clothes say, "Don't do it." His voice Almost made the woman lose her grip, and I saw for the first time how cold it was. Their breath stayed suspended in the air like early morning mist. One fall and she'd freeze. _Twenty-eight degrees… Above freezing…

_With a cracked voice, the woman made a desperate, "Stay back! Don't come any closer!"_

_But no matter how hard she would plead, she will not succeed. _

_The man stayed planted in his spot and said, while putting out his hand, "Take my hand. I'll pull you back in."_

"_No!" she gasped out. "Stay where you are. I-I mean it. I'll let go."_

_With her cracking voice and unsure eyes, I knew she didn't mean it._

"_No you won't."_

_The woman threw her head back, and said in a annoyed tone, "What do you mean, no I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do! You don't know me!"_

_Her forehead was wrinkled in frustration, and the man, looking confident, still stood there with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He played with it with his tongue, and, taking it out of his mouth, hurled it overboard._

"_You would have done it already. Now come on, you don't want to do this. Take my hand."_

_His calloused hand was still out, ready to be taken, but the woman was not ready to wave a white flag._

"_You're distracting me," she said. "Go away." _

_I could see her eyes glow up at the thought of someone trying so hard to pull her over and prove what she's doing was wrong._

_The man shrugged his shoulders. "I can't. I'm too involved now. If you let go, then I'll just have to jump in there after you."_

_The woman surely looked like she was in shock. I was sure she was thinking that no one in her whole life would ever risk their own to save hers._

_The man took off his coat and shoes, glancing over to see if she was going to change her mind anytime soon._

_But instead she said, worried and croaky-voiced, "Don't be absurd. You'd be killed."_

"_I'm a good swimmer," he remarked._

"_The fall alone will kill you."_

"_It would hurt, not saying it wouldn't. To be honest, I'm a lot more concerned by that water being so cold."_

_She paled and looked shaken. Now hesitant and looking out of the corner of her eye, she asked, "How cold?"_

"_Freezing. Probably a couple degrees over. You, uh, ever been to Wisconsin?"_

_She shot her head back, a look of pure agitation on her face._

"_What?"_

"_Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once when I was a kid I went ice-fishing with my father on Lake Wissota. Ice-fishing is when-"_

"_I know what ice-fishing is!" the woman said, clearly annoyed._

"_I'm sorry. You just seem like a more," he said, indicating her, "like an indoor girl. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice, and I'm telling ya: water that cold, like right down there, hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breath. You can't think. At least not about anything but the pain."_

_There was a silent pause except for the noise of the propellers swirling around the water, making it harder to hear the dropped tones of the man._

"_Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in their after you," he said, in a much more calmer, satisfied speech. The young woman's eyes, now dry and bloodshot, widened in fear and uncertainty. "But like I said," he continued, "I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kind of hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."_

"_You're crazy," she said. However, it was obvious she didn't mean it by the way her voice cracked and shook._

"_That's what they all say," he said, smiling. "But with all due respect, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here."_

_When she didn't answer he put out his hand, closer than before, and said, "Come on, now. Give me your hand."_

_She stared at it, still hazy, but her eyes then grew wider, and she slowly turned around and took his hand without much hesitation. For a moment their eyes locked._

"_Jack Dawson," he said, with a smile of victory pasted on his face._

_She smiled back. "Rose DeWitt Bukater."_

_And then she slipped._

I stumbled back to the dining room feeling groggy and sick. _What just happened? _I thought. _This can't possibly be happening. And that story can't be true… Why would a young woman so sweet and beautiful want to give up her life, when there was so much to see in the world? _Then I remembered the sad look in her eyes, the anger shown when she looked at her fiancé. It then hit me like a meteorite that the marriage wasn't only arranged: it was forced upon her so quickly she didn't have time to know what to think.

Feeling slightly less feverish and not so fatigued, I made my way to my chair and sat down. "Where's, um, Mr. Hockley?" I asked the people at the table innocently. _That sly, smirking idiot. _

"There was some emergency. He wouldn't let us know what, exactly," John answered. I nodded.

Though no matter how much I wanted to talk to John about what just happened, I felt like it was too soon to tell secrets when we only have known each other for a day. So I indicated Nick, who was sad to leave his dinner, and said, "May Nicholas and I please be excused for a second?"

I grabbed him forcefully by the arm and dragged him to the deck. My hair caught in the wind, which was almost strong enough to pull my hair out of it's tight bun. Before I knew what I was saying, tears were spilling out of my eyes. As I went through the story of what just happened, to the pain to the suicide attempt to the vision, Nick was listening with great attention.

"A-And then," my voice trembled as I spilled the last part out, "she slipped, and e-everything went b-back to normal."

When Nick did nothing but stare, I added, "A-And for some reason I feel like something's going to happen. Like something's going to bloom and then die. It's a hunch, not a fact. Maybe what I saw wasn't even real."

"One way to find out," he said, now grabbing _my_ arm forcefully and dragging me to the stern.

We watched as Cal yelled at Jack with anger on his face. Rose's eyes were still smeared with mascara and were bloodshot, but something new shone in them. She stopped Cal before he could get more anger out at Jack. She said something, something that must've been a lie for the look on both of her and Jack's faces.

Cal, now quite calm and innocent, laughed as Nick and I heard him say, "She just wanted to see the propellers!" and Colonel Archibald Gracie said, "Women and machinery don't mix."

As Rose got pulled away by Cal, she said something to him I couldn't hear. Cal then instructed his servant to give Jack something, but Rose pushed in again, and Cal instead told Jack something that was probably what he would call a generous offer.

I saw her eyes lock with Jack's again, and from the distance I could see that they were curious and thankful. Nick then pulled me away before I could see more.

" 'She just wanted to see the propellers'!" Nick mimicked. "But your story matches up if what he said was a lie."

"Yes, but listen, you can't tell _anyone_ about this!" I urgently told him, serious. "If you ever want to talk to me about it in public, we should come up with a name for these visions."

"Like what?"

"Feelings. We'll call them feelings, for that's basically what they are."

"All right. Feelings it is, then."

I nodded, not paying much attention to his constant rambles on what was supposedly happening. When he was done and started heading back, I stayed behind, pulled my fur jacket closer as the wind blew harder; the hair that had fell out of its bun flew in the breeze; and I swore that I heard Rose's voice say, "When the ship docks, I'm getting off with you."


	7. Love Story

**Chapter 6**

**Love Story**

**April 12, 1912**

"Danielle, honey, your father and I are going to tea with the lovely Countess," my mother's voice rang through my bedroom door.

"Yes, Mother, I know. You told me last night," I mumbled, putting my pillow over my head. When the noise of her clicking heels disappeared and I heard a door slam, I jumped out of bed immediately, grabbed the dress I laid out last night (a purple-velvet with black-laced designs, a black, silk ribbon around the waist, and some fuzzy, dark lining) and started waking up for the day ahead of me.

John had asked me to join him for a walk around the boat deck after he walked the dogs. I immediately agreed, so I could escape the morning's tea with the Countess and to also spend some more time with a new friend. Lucy was completely forgotten at the rushing moment; she laid, napping, on the bed.

When I was brushing my long hair, struggling on a giant knot at the bottom, there was a knock at the door and John's voice saying, "Danielle, are you ready?"

My hazel eyes widened and I replied, "In just a second!" Under my breath, I whispered, "Coming, my Montague."

I know, it was totally uncalled for. But there was something different about John that I liked. He was just as rich as I was, but he didn't show it. He didn't care or brag or act spoiled.

Looking at Lucy, I kissed her on the head, held up her floppy ear, and whispered, "Not today, girl." Lucy's eyes opened into slits, and they closed once I let go of her ear.

Racing to the door as I put on my gloves and matching faux fur jacket, I pulled it opened and smiled. "Sorry for the delay," I said as John closed the door behind me.

"It's fine, the day has only just started. We have lots of time."

I giggled and blushed as we walked to the promenade deck. Many people were out at this time, though there was a cold chill in the air, but it was warmer than last night.

"So, Danielle," John said, putting his hands in his pockets. "Any more life stories you haven't already told me about?"

I laughed. "Well, there's one more, but it's really quite silly."

"Then that gives you more reason to tell it." I showed my teeth as I smiled, clearly already in a good mood.

"I had a dog before this one," I admitted.

"And?" John said.

"I took it for a walk when I was five, and thought it would be fun to let it off the leash. So when my father wasn't looking, I unhooked the leash from his collar and he… dashed away."

"Don't you mean 'ran away'?"

"Yes, but," I leaned in closer and whispered, "between you and me, he never liked me much. I was always the one pulling at his ears and dressing him up whenever I felt like it. That's where I got this." I pulled up my sleeve and showed him two large white marks still embedded in my skin. "He bit me when I tied a ribbon around his neck. The scar never went away."

"It's hard to believe your parents even got you another one," John said, clearly impressed by my stupidity.

"Yeah, they never liked how I treated old Bear, but I finally got why I shouldn't do certain things to dogs later."

We kept on walking. "So, John," I said. "Tell me a life story."

"A silly one?"

"I don't care."

He nodded his head and said, "Well, when I was in middle school, probably ten or eleven, my father took me horseback riding in the woods. He thought it would be an honor for me to ride the most gentle and oldest one, Beauty. He looked so pleased when I was able to ride her with ease. But, before I knew it, I was on the dirt floor, a searing pain in my head and nose."

I made a noise that was a mix between a gasp and a laugh. "It doesn't look like she was so gentle after all."

"Clearly not. I got a broken nose and a concussion. Sadly, even though I hated that horse afterwards, she was put to sleep. My father was in the worst state. He loved that horse, and anything to do with our old farm. Even I missed her after that."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Truly. You know, when I was little my mother was expecting a baby. It was really funny, you know. We all hoped on it being a boy and it ended up being a girl. Her name was Alicia, my one and only baby sister." I closed my eyes as I tried to stop tears from flowing down my cheeks. I then opened my eyes and started talking again. "Her first word was Danielle." I had to laugh as the memory came back. "Of course it wasn't pronounced correctly, but it was close. Anytime I came into the room, she said my name. And anytime I left the house, my mother complained when I got back that she wouldn't stop crying all night while mumbling my name. She was truly the sibling I had always dreamed of."

I couldn't help but let one more tear go. I noticed that my once happy face was now turned slightly into a frown, and it was becoming harder to speak. "We all went for a family vacation one day. We took an automobile, you know, to see what it was like. On the way there it crashed. Clearly a drunk man just slammed into us on the side when we were crossing an intersection. The one who was the least damaged was my mother, then my father. Then me, then the driver. And the most injured was little Alicia, only two years old at the time." I tried to smile as I let out a pathetic laugh, but there was nothing funny about the subject. "We were all driven to the hospital in an ambulance. My mother and father made it out okay, being by my side as surgery progressed. But my mother was crying out an ocean as she tried to tell me that my little sister, who was more broken than we thought, didn't survive after all."

I let a couple of tears flow down my cheeks. "And so my mother and father never tried on having another baby, and I was left an only child for the rest of the years to come. When I think back now, I notice that I never had the best childhood possible. It was all ruined by a single death in the family, and I was unable to pick up the pieces."

John didn't say anything; I didn't dare look at his face. I closed my eyes and let all that I've been holding in my whole life flow down my cheeks. I had to stop as my legs began to shake. My tears instantly ceased to spill and my body calmed when John pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry."

I didn't dare break the embrace. I simply wiped my tears and tried to rid my mind of the memory. "I sometimes forget about her," I sniffed eventually.

"That doesn't do her any justice."

"I know," I whispered. "But the memory is more painful than it sounds."

My eyes then widened and all was forgotten as I saw a burst of red curls walking in this direction with a dirty-blond head next to her. Before I even knew what I was doing, I broke the passion and pushed John through the door right next to us. We tumbled into the empty second-class stairway, and the door slammed behind us. "What are you doing?" John asked in a demanding tone.

I sat up and pushed my dress evenly across my knees, noticing that when I tumbled the bottom came close to my neck. "I-I'm sorry," I stammered, completely forgetting the touching moment before. I blushed a heavy shade of red. "I saw two people in the distance, two that-"

"You didn't want to see you?" he guessed, but was still shocked by the sudden dive.

"N-No," I admitted, still trying to rack my brain on how to explain the sudden reflex. "Listen, John, it's hard to explain."

"Fine," he said, getting up off the floor and helping me up. "But you owe me a dinner in the Parisian Café."

I gulped and blushed a pink shade this time. "As in a-"

"Date?" he finished, now looking nervous and uncomfortable.

I smiled and crossed my arms at my chest. "As long as you pick me up."

He smiled, which made mine go wider, and said, "How does eight sound?"

"Perfect."

"Then it's a date."

I nodded, and we exited the stairway and back to the boat deck. I waved as he went back to work. I noticed Nick on the deck with his snobby friends; Jack and Rose were gone.

"Nick!" I yelled. I tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

"Why, look who it is," a sickly voice said. I rolled my eyes at Charles, who I should've guessed would be the one Nick was talking to.

"_Darling,"_ I said through gritted teeth, "_such_ a pleasure to see you again."

This time I let him put his arm around me. I tried to think of some disgusting excuse to make him let me go like last time, but in the end I just pushed him off my shoulders and backed away. "I must get ready," I said. "I have a date with a charming gentleman at eight tonight."

Thomas and Ryan snickered as Charles' face reddened with anger. "Danielle, dear, but your parents have planned something special for dinner tonight."

"I could care less about my parents at the moment, but I do not regret the people who gave me life."

I stepped back a little as Charles came a step closer. "I do not fear you." I stared into his eyes, trying to sooth his angry temper. He then sighed and his shaking, clenched fists relaxed.

"But you can not miss tonight's dinner," he finally said calmly. "There's an important announcement, like I said, and it must be said tonight."

Though tears were brimming in my eyes, I finally nodded and sucked in my lip. When everyone started to leave, I tapped Charles' shoulder and whispered in an angry tone, "I hope you're happy."

I then dashed away in the other direction, a silent tear going down my cheek.

...

"Danielle!" someone called my name. The voice was full of happiness and sweetness, and I recognized it right away.

"Miss DeWitt Bukater, I'm just quickly passing through."

There was a wide smile on her face, and next to her was Jack. I blushed a deep shade of red, embarrassed that I might have ruined something.

When she noticed my tears, she raised a concerned eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and said, "It's not for me to say, and not for you to know."

Hoping that she would understand, she nodded and I dashed away.

_What is she doing? _I thought. _Being with some other man like that? She's getting married. She can't be-_

I cut myself off before I could think of more nonsensical words.

I wished to send message to John about the canceled date, but my mother was draped over me like a curtain. She worked on my hair forever, and picked out my most fanciest clothes. "Mother, I can dress myself," I said, cringing as my hair was pulled tighter into a bun.

"Danielle, darling, no! With tonight's announcement, we have to be in the most formal garments we own!" my mother fretted.

"What can this announcement possibly be? A wedding proposal?" I joked. Mother didn't answer.

"There," she said, an hour later. "You're done." She looked at me with proud eyes filled with glimmering tears.

"Mother," I said in a sympathetic voice. "There's no need to cry. I'm not going anywhere."

She just waved me off and left the bedroom without a response.

"That was odd," I said to myself. I then turned to the body-length mirror and stared at my reflection. The dress I wore was pure-white silk and reached to the ankle. Like always, a ribbon was tied around my waist, a giant bow in the back. The dress was studded with pearls and lace, and velvet gloves finished off my dressy appearance. Mother insisted I wear high-heeled boots, ones that were tight and uncomfortable and will probably give me blisters the longer I wore them.

"You look," I said under my breath, "like a bridesmaid."

...

I looked around the dining room desperately for John. I ignored every sentence Charles said, and wished he would get off my arm.

When reaching the table, I sat down hopelessly. I gulped hard as I tried to imagine what he was possibly thinking of me not answering the cabin door. Caledon Hockley sat at my left, and Charles to my right. Rose sat between Cal and Mr. Andrews, and next to him sat… Jack?

I blinked just to make sure I was seeing right, and was stunned to see it was him. "Jack," I exclaimed, a smile spreading on my face, eyes widening, "you clean up nice!"

Rose tried to hide a smile on her face, but Jack and I both seemed to noticed. A woman by the name of Margaret Brown, but who we called Molly, winked in my direction. (She was also Nick's aunt, as well.) I then realized that she lent Jack the tuxedo.

"Attention all," Charles said. I tried not to mimic him in distaste. "I have an announcement to make."

Mother's eye started spilling tears again, and I gave her a questioning look. "Mother-" was all I managed to whisper before I heard Charles say, "Whoever sits next to me this wonderful evening, under the pure white arch, is to be my lovely bride."

My face paled and I tried to look above me without anyone noticing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the elegant white arch perched above me, connected to other pillars and arcs to divide the dining room.

I thought of how stupid this was. I was only 16, and the way he said it was as though we were ten years older. My pale face was replaced with fire-red anger.

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. "Danielle," Charles said with, for once, a kind of serious, touching tone.

I tried to say something but my mouth was dry. "This is absurd," I managed to say. "I'm only sixteen."

"My daughter is seventeen," Ruth DeWitt Bukater said.

"Mother, I'm turning eighteen next month, when it's legal," Rose said. She suddenly looked very blanch.

I stood up. "Charles-"

"I am eighteen," he said. "And you can pass as that."

I looked angrily at my parents and said, "You planned this?" They didn't respond, but Mother's eyes shown with a kind of proud and guiltiness factor. "You're just going to give away your daughter like this?" I glanced at Rose, and she looked away.

I looked to see if any other tables were watching and could pick out a sullen face staring at me with anger in his eyes. I looked away from John, a sudden fury and depression overtaking me. Everyone at the table was quiet, and then Rose stood up defiantly from her chair and said, "Shouldn't Danielle be able to accept or decline the marriage without being forced into it?" I could tell that Rose's mind was filled with bad memories.

Ruth looked clearly angry and embarrassed, and beckoned her daughter to sit down. When she finally did, Jack said, "She's right. Arranged marriages lead to divorce, depression, and suicide."

Cal gave Jack an angry eye. "I-I need some fresh air," I muttered, and ran out of the dining room, glancing at John as I passed him. Tears managed to pour out of my eyes right when I left the table, and I was sure he saw them. But, he didn't follow me.

I sobbed heavily, my whole body shaking when I reached the A-Deck promenade. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heaving mind, but instead of hearing the calming sound of the ocean waves lapping at the ship, I heard voices...

"_I want to thank you for what you did, not just for pulling me back but for your discretion."_

"_You're welcome, Rose." It was Jack._

_Just then, a picture started to form, and I made out Jack and Rose strolling on the boat deck. _

_They talked about their lives, Rose letting out all her stress. They looked at peace when they were with each other. Why couldn't my life be the same? But my world didn't hold that person. The kind that can just take my breath away, and actually care about what I think. God, my parents don't even care enough to try!_

_I tried to feel the least bit happy. I mean, I've always dreamed of marrying, right? The image I was seeing faded and came back. When I saw Rose's worried face as she told Jack about her own engagement, my heart sank. _I don't want to be like Rose… _I thought. _Giving away your whole life for someone? Someone you don't even love?

_I wished to just die at that moment. Right now jumping off the back of a ship sounded tempting. _I never thought I would ever think of giving my life away…

_I continued to hear my echoing sobs as I tried to pay attention to Rose and Jack's conversation. Their happiness together was usually contagious, but this time it was just pitiful to watch. I then just gave up completely and let the vision drive out of my head. _

"Danielle."

I kept my head buried in my hands even after I heard my name. I didn't even dare look up when I recognized the voice.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said again.

"Because," I sobbed, my voice muffled. "I-I didn't know."

I felt as if the tight bun on my head was pulling my nerves so much that that was the reason I was going hysterical. I then wiped my tear-filled eyes and moved my hands to the back of my head, pulling my hair out of the tight shape; it tumbled freely down my back. I kept my back to him.

I wasn't surprised one bit that he had found me. One, there was only so many places I could be. Two, my dress was such a bright white, I was like a star.

I let the wind blow my hair behind my shoulders. I forgot how good that felt. I guess you can say I forgot my whole life that was back in England. Even though I never took off her locket, I even forgot about Jenny. My mind was in its own trance that thought this was all some dream, and that I'd wake up back home in Europe. _No, _the other side of my mind fought. _This is all real. America, Jack and Rose, even my new engagement- it's all real._

A hand went down on my shoulder with a determined grip. It was gentle enough not to hurt me, but tight enough to show its meaning. "Look at me," he said.

"John," I whispered. I removed his hand from my shoulder and turned around. "I'm so sorry."

I attempted not to let my hazel-green eyes fall into his charming green ones. It was hard not to. Especially when I needed to be comforted so much now.

I looked into them, remembering what they looked like before my eyes flashed at his. I knew I had made a mistake. They were no longer filled with curiosity and life, but were now filled with pain. _Too much pain_, I thought, and I quickly glanced back down.

John said nothing. His hands seemed to be shaking, and for a second I thought they were going to grip my own trembling hands, but he hesitantly shoved his in his pockets. I watched the scene unfold before my eyes. I still wished this wasn't happening.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, "for getting involved. I should have never even accepted your invitation. I should have never let you talk about your life stories. And most importantly, I should have never talked about mine. If I knew this would get so mixed up and hysterical, I promise I would have never done what I've done. All I ask now, before we part, is for your forgiveness."

I dared myself to look into his eyes again. It looked like he was trying not to cry, and the hands inside his pockets still shook. Disappointed, I looked down and turned my back to him. I let one solitude tear fall down my cheek. I tried to block out the noise of his leather shoes hitting the wooden deck and fading into the distance. I tried not to cry again as I realized he never said anything back.

"Everything has fallen apart," I whispered in a monotone voice. "But one thing hasn't. No matter what, even if this ship is to sink right now, I will never give up on finding the true meaning of Jack and Rose."

...

Staring at myself in the mirror, I tried to calm my roaring mind. It hadn't stopped thinking, grieving, and wondering since the proposal, and it had turned into a headache. I slid the silver brush through my hair, and I noticed there wasn't one single knot. _This is what I get. Perfection. No wonder I'm engaged, and at only sixteen too. _

A knock came at my door and a sly hand pushed it opened. A common head I wished to never see again poked through the door. The soft jingle of _Come Josephine _came from the music box my parents bought me last year. It was my favorite song, and I turned it on to comfort me. It always had: until now. I nodded for the disgusting figure to enter. I slowly put my brush down as he closed the door and cleared his throat.

"Danielle, darling, how are you feeling? Your mother is having quite a fit. She says you haven't been the same since dinner," Charles informed.

I tried not to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, Charles. Mother always takes things so seriously." I moved my fingers gently across a delicate diamond broach. It was in the shape of a hibiscus flower, and I've had it since birth. I then glanced at Charles through the vanity mirror, and he looked overwhelmed. I placed the broach back on the table.

"Yes, Charles?" I vaguely asked. I had only known him for one day, and I could already read his expressions. _Maybe we will make a good couple..._

"It's just-" he began, but cut himself off. He then cleared his throat and tried again. "I just want to say, I welcome you to the Birmingham family."

And then he proudly exited through the door.

I closed my eyes and tried to hold in my tears but to no avail. I then picked up the diamond broach again, held it tightly in my palm, and started silently singing to the soft tune.

"Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, and it's up she goes… Up she goes…"

I wished to fly away.


	8. Prissy Armsworth

**Chapter 7**

**Prissy Armsworth**

**April 13th, 1912**

The events yesterday were of mixed ranges: to warm and wonderful, to sad and brutal, and then in between. I smiled in my sleep as I remembered last night.

It was like a usual thing: I fantasized about Jack and Rose again, but this time it wasn't of them in the first-class dining room. They were somewhere else on the ship, dancing and partying. The people in the background wore old and ragged clothes, so I had assumed it was in the third-class section of the ship. But the sounds of happy people and footsteps dancing on the floor pulled me out of the trance and made my mind want to join badly. So I had slipped into something casual (but not too fancy), put on my shoes, and walked out of the cabin.

I was so sure I was alone, until someone aggressively tapped my shoulder.

"Danielle!" Charles yelled in a whisper. "Where are you going? It's ten at night!" Apparently he was coming back from a regular night walk on the deck.

"So?" I laughed. Nighttime made me feel tipsy. "Charles, if you want me to be your wife, it would be best to know me. And now is a perfect occasion. Come to a party with me." I gave him my hand.

He then unhappily agreed, and I excitedly led the way. Every step I took, more adrenaline ran through my body as the sound of the party music pounded in my ears.

"Danielle, where are we going?" Charles asked, annoyed and whiny. We were walking down the main third-class stairs that started on C-Deck.

"You'll see!" I exclaimed, finally reaching reaching F-Deck. I was panting from excitement. "Now this is going to be fun!" I approached a door and put my ear to it. Loud, fun music was heard from the other side.

"But we're in third-class-!"

"Shush!" I put my finger to my lips, a smile on my face, eyes full of hysteria. I then opened the door and squealed.

_Charles' jaw dropped as Danielle ran into the stream of people. He was so in shock that he was frozen to the spot. But the people's stares and the top of Danielle's head disappearing in the crowd convinced him to move. _

"_Danielle!" he cried. He had lost her in the sea of lower-class people. He grumbled silently to himself until his eyes caught the sight of red curls. "Oh my God!" he gasped. There was the young Miss DeWitt Bukater, first name Rose, clapping along with the others as the young man Mr. Dawson, first name Jack, danced with a little girl. His hair had lost the oil he used to sleek it back, and fell in strands over his eyes. _

_When Danielle saw them, she thought differently. Instead of being shocked, her face held a warm glow and a smile. _Look at them,_ she thought. It was hard _not_ to smile. _

_When her eyes moved to Jack, she laughed. _Look at that! The oddest couple I've ever seen._ She saw the little girl, who was trying hard not to trip, since Jack was towering over her. _And look at Jack…_ Danielle then blushed as she realized she was getting all dreamy. Well, it's not his fault he was so adorable. She then put the thought aside and clapped along with the others._

_Charles was doing his best to squeeze through the crowd of people. To him it was like a never-ending sea. He asked everyone who actually knew English if they've seen a girl with the longest, straightest hair around. The only helpful person was an old man with a cigarette who just pointed ahead and there she was. _

"_Danielle!" Charles breath came out in short gasps as he tried to catch his breath. "What in the world are you trying to do? Kill me?"_

_Danielle just giggled at Charles. He realized she was talking with a couple of girls who had their hands to their mouths and were snickering. That's when he realized his whole outfit was wrinkled and his hair pushed around. Grumbling, he told Danielle, "I was trampled by filth." _

_The girls then gasped and looked at Charles with daggers reflecting off their pupils. He put his hands up defensively and said, "I'm sorry! But-"_

"_Just because they're poor," Danielle pointed out, her once-soft tone showing anger and annoyance, "doesn't mean they should be treated less than me or you."_

_Charles, offended, backed off and didn't say another word for the rest of the time. The girls, who knew little English but spoke fluent French, did their best to talk to Danielle, who knew little French but obviously spoke fluent English. The song soon changed and the French girls were taken away by foreign boys to dance. _

_Danielle sighed. She saw that Jack had invited Rose to the dance floor, and she looked unsure and uncomfortable. Danielle could see the blush on Rose's face as Jack pulled her closer. Unlike Rose, Jack's face held a warm smile. _

"_Charles, would you like to dance with me?" Danielle asked, not taking her eyes off Jack and Rose._

_Not believing his ears, Charles stuttered, "W-What?"_

"_You heard me," she said, finally taking her eyes off her surroundings and looking at him. "Dance with me."_

_They held hands and kept their bodies close together, which bothered Charles but had no effect on Danielle. They started doing this weird hop around the room, like what Jack and Rose were doing. She tried to steer herself and Charles across the room without him noticing that she was trying to get a better view of them. They eventually got closer, and Danielle let go of Charles' hands when he started to wheeze and look faint. _

"_Tired already?" she asked with a smirk on her face. She clearly thought this was funny. _

"_Yes," Charles admitted. "I will take a rest." And he collapsed on the nearest chair, which caused a man to trip over his feet and spill beer all over him. Danielle couldn't help but slap her hand over her mouth and try to contain her giggles. Charles, with a look of disgust, said in a monotone voice, "That's not funny."_

_Danielle helped him up, beer dripping from his whole body. "Are you all right?" she laughed. She ruffled his sticky, golden-blond hair. Charles couldn't help but laugh at her gesture. "Yes, I'm fine," he finally said. Even though it was hard to believe, Charles could care less about himself at that moment. There was something inside Danielle that had spread throughout him, and he was suddenly a different person. He joked about his sticky, soaked self and did his best to squeeze the beer out of his clothes. He even smiled!_

_At that moment, his light brown eyes locked with Danielle's hazel ones. Even though she wasn't looking back, his cheeks flushed. While he was busy gloating over himself, he never opened his eyes to the beauty of other things. And, boy, was her eyes full of beauty; same with the plastered grin on her face as she watched the dancing couples. _

_Danielle, feeling like someone was watching her, looked at Charles. The smile on her face faded as she stared back into his eyes. _Maybe he's not so bad after all…

_Danielle found herself moving closer, and right when she was thinking this was the moment of truth with her and Charles, Jack and Rose barreled into them. They all fell to the floor, tangled and laughing. Rose, who could barely contain one second without laughter, giggled, "We're sorry." She began picking herself up. She was breathing hard but her eyes looked more energized than tired. They widened when a tray full of mugs of beer passed by, and she took a glass. She gulped it all down, and Danielle gaped in astonishment. She smiled at her, and Danielle smiled back, even though her mouth was still hanging open. _

_Jack helped her up, the corners of his mouth turned up to his ears. Charles, who was a sticky and slippery boy at the moment, stayed on the floor, laughing like he never had before. Danielle beamed at the scene. _

_When Jack realized who she was, he said, astonished, "Danielle? What are you doing here?"_

_Before she could respond, Rose exclaimed, "Jack! Come over here!" She was dancing crazily with a bunch of other men, who looked like they were all having a great time dancing with a first-class woman. Jack laughed and Danielle gawked at the scene.  
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_Rose waved Jack over, and he walked over to join her, Danielle completely forgotten. But she didn't care. She could tell Jack's heart was full of enough love right now for Rose to do anything for her. _

_Danielle, who realized the time and her aching, tired body, helped Charles off the floor and said, "It's time to go back." _

_When she released her grip on Charles, a sticky mass of beer stayed with her. "Ew," she laughed, and Charles joined with her._

"That was the most best time of my life!" Charles exclaimed.

I smiled. "Glad you had fun."

"And to imagine that Jack and Rose were there too! How strange!"

"Yes, very." My happiness couldn't stay for so long, even with Charles' enthusiasm, which I've never seen before. My emotions were controlling me again. My mind wondered to John and Jenny. Just then I pictured Rose whispering, "Something I can't have…"

I wiped a tear that was forming in my eye and continued to listen to Charles' babbles of giddiness. The beer must have gone to his head, I thought.

When it was time to part, Charles kissed me on the cheek. My mind stayed blank and I stared straight forward as he whispered, "Good night, Danielle." He disappeared in his cabin across the hall.

I then unlocked the door and walked inside. I changed and got into bed absentmindedly. Did he really just do that?

I rubbed my cheek, and inhaled the faint scent of dried, sticky beer. I smiled before I drifted off to sleep.

...

Now, looking at my future, it was as bright as could be. Living with Charles might not be so bad. He could be one of those husbands who supported what their wives believed of the world, and what they wanted to be.

I stumbled out of bed, my mind spinning and back and legs aching from last night. A large bruise had formed on my calf. _That stupid stumble, _I thought.

My mind, however, was on other things. It was then that I had noticed how sappy this whole voyage was. John and I were in love, after knowing each other for one day? I was engaged to Charles, first loathed him, now I actually think he's not so bad? There was something strange about this voyage, as if each hour was one year. Whatever friends you make on this trip, they stay with you, I thought. Magical things happen...

Forgetting my sappy love life, I got dressed and did my hair with a smile on my face the whole time. _I can live like this. _I had done my hair so a very small portion of it was divided into two small braids and then tied together in the back. It was a very nice look on me, and it kept my hair down, which I loved the most. I had put on a light green-and-white dress, which completed my outfit, along with my usual shoes, stockings, gloves, and jewelry.

But this was different than yesterday. Yesterday I was a free girl. Today, I was trapped. The ring on my left hand proved that theory. I will never be the same girl I've always had been.

When I walked into the hall and locked my bedroom door, Charles stepped out of his own.

"Good morning, Charles," I said in a cheerful voice. I slipped the key into my dress pocket.

"Mornin'," he mumbled.

"Is something wrong?"

"What? Oh, nothing."

He walked me down to breakfast and then started complaining about his suit that got covered in a mass of beer last night.

"And you know what?" he yelled. I looked at him in confusion and hurt. "This is all your fault!"

Right there he struck a nerve, and we stopped walking while I yelled back, "My fault? You agreed to go in the first place! No one was forcing you to go! If you left, I wouldn't have stopped you!"

Charles, giving me a glare, just walked away. He put on a fake grin that could pass as a real one as he greeted the adults at the breakfast table. "And here I was, thinking my future was bright," I said to myself. _Love was _not _easy. _In fact, Charles never was a lover, and he never will be. The small crowd that had formed when Charles and I were fighting had dispersed.

Wiping tears of anger and hurt out of my eyes, I skipped breakfast and went to the A-Deck promenade deck. I tried to remove the fact that I was so gullible out of my head.

It was oddly peaceful as I strolled the deck. Few people passed by, fur coats and scarves blowing in the wind to protect them from the freezing wind. After a few more tears froze to my cheeks, I decided it would be best to go back inside before I caught pneumonia, frost bite, or hypothermia. (Yeah, that was kind of an exaggeration.)

I stayed away from the dining areas, knowing who was there. And also the kennel, even though my own dog was there. (I had taken her to John sometime between Mother dressing me and Charles telling me of the announcement, but I was too scared to tell John the truth.) She was my only companion, I guess you can say, but I didn't really want to face John.

I looked down at my left hand, the large diamond ring staring back at me. "Talk about rich and fancy," I said to myself. I stopped in the hallway on my way to my cabin to study the ring more closely. "Thirty-six karats!" I gasped. Even though it did make my fingers look slimmer, the ring was causing much struggle for me. I was only sixteen, and already engaged to an eighteen-year-old who I just met, what, two days ago? The thought sickened me.

Why does it seem as though any time I thought of this stuff, my eyes start to water nonstop? This time I really tried not to cry. I wiped my runny nose on my sleeve (unladylike, I know), which was still numb from the cold. _Just below freezing… _I thought.

Mindlessly taking the key out of my coat pocket, I struggled on opening my door. It seemed as if unlocking it was a competition to me. My fingers stumbled on the key, which fell on the soft, extravagant carpeting with a tiny _ping. _

Sniffing, I bent down to retrieve it. That's when _he_ was coming down the hallway. I tried not to notice, or even cry.

"Danielle," he said in a nonchalant manner, slightly nodding his head politely.

"Charles," I sniffed. My nose was rather stuffy, and I begged he wouldn't make some comment with his fake concern.

"It seems as if you've caught a cold!" he, sadly, exclaimed. "Must have got it when we went to that atrocious party."

"It wasn't atrocious," I snapped. "Or absurd, or hogwash. You liked it, for once, unlike your heartless self!" I angrily shoved the key through the slot with trembling hands.

"Danielle, darling, please. That was not me."

"Yes, you were there, and covered in beer. Unless I was hallucinating, which I doubt." I slowly opened the door, though it bounced back with much force, proving one of Newton's laws.

"Oh, yes, _that_ incident. _Don't_ remind me." He then dramatically waved his hand in the air and stepped inside his cabin. Without thought, I followed him.

"And that's how you treat me? Your fiancée, your darling? I hate even the thought! Charles, I've disliked you since the beginning, but this… this is just… absurd!" I spat out the first word that came to mind. "You're gutless, with no soul or feeling. You're selfish and cruel… Why would you even call yourself a person?"

"Now, now, Danielle-"

"Don't you say my name," I threatened. I slipped the diamond ring off my finger and threw it at him. "And to believe I almost kissed you! I thought you were different, Charles, but I guess I was right in the beginning: you're just as who I thought you were- a conceited jerk!"

I felt as though a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and escaped through my furious words. Charles caught the ring, startled, as my mind raced in exhilaration. I had done it. Me, a female, a girl, a woman, had actually broke a wedding proposal, even though I thought I had very little power to do so.

I stomped out of his cabin, slamming the door behind me, and, picking up the pace, ran into my own room. I started sobbing.

_Why, God, why? I'm so young and clueless. Please, help me… I don't know what's the matter with me… What I'm feeling…_

And at that note, I slumped down against the wall and continued to cry.

...

"_You promised you'd bring her home safe!"_

"_Now listen, Donna, I-"_

"_You what? Left our- no, my- _only_ daughter to perish at sea? You call yourself a father?"_

"_I don't wish to call her my daughter… She's nothing but a worthless child. Scum, I should say. She should've belonged in steerage. But, because she still shares the same blood-"_

"_Daniel! And all for her!"_

"_Donna, you know my new wife is far too young and in such a delicate condition to not lead her safely to a lifeboat."_

"_Yes, and in the end, you still lose a child!"_

"_Mommy? Daddy? What does the light in heaven look like?"_

"_Prissy, darling? Oh, yes, sweetheart, come here! Come to your loving mother! Oh, how I've missed you so much!"_

_...  
><em>

Startled, my eyes shot open. Confused and groggy by my long slumber, I noticed I was still slumped against the wall. "That was odd…," I finally said. _A child that perished at sea…_

The thought was curiously overwhelming. Who was this little girl? And what about lifeboats and the ocean? The only possible thought that I could generate was a sinking ship. One with very few lifeboats, just like the _Titanic _herself.

"Oh, no," I whispered. These visions- no, these_ feelings_- were all too predictable. For one thing, I had no clue if it was even possible for _Titanic_ to sink. And, second of all, why me?

Mother was right. The teenage years were the most confusing of your short life. I thought I've always known who I was, what I wanted to be, what I loved to do and…

I cut myself. _No. My life will not be ruined by this high-society madness. Life is much more than just parties and frilly dresses. _And with that, I straightened out my ruffled dress, redid my hair, and set out of my cabin, ready to face whatever is to come.

I sighed as the wind blew in my face, lightly as if caressing my cheek. It was bitterly cold, but I didn't let that stop me. The sunset was too beautiful to miss.

Lucy nipped at my heels as she went around my feet, tying them together with her leash. I picked her up earlier, but it wasn't easy. John still seemed pretty annoyed.

I had slowly opened the door to the kennel, desperately wishing I could just grab Lucy and leave. Basically, I was hoping John wouldn't be there and I could just make a mad dash for the door without anyone noticing. Making my throat want to whine, I was wrong.

Lucy came dashing towards me, barking like mad with her little tongue spraying saliva in all directions. I bent down to pick up the K.C. Spaniel with my gloved hands when a voice said, "Come on, you stupid mutt, just because I complain about her doesn't mean you have to make an escape to run off and tell her."

John rounded the corner, and my cheeks, along with his, immediately flushed. "Hello, John," I said. "I just came to pick up my dog." I bent my head down as a little old-fashioned curtsy. I tried to act as though the past never happened.

"Danielle," he said, nodding his head too. "Go ahead."

For a second it sounded as though he wanted to say something; there was longing in his voice. I felt so sorry for the pain I was causing him, but my mind was still confused, and I had no clue what to do.

Instead of saying what was on his mind, he turned and walked away. With shaky hands, I grasped Lucy's collar, clasped her leash on, and, with a deep breath, left the kennel. Since a whole ocean of memories was threatening to overwhelm me, I decided to head to the boat deck. The lulling sounds of the gently slapping ocean, and not to mention the sunset, always seemed to calm me. Little did I know it would soon be my destruction.

Humming the long ago lullaby my mother used to sing to me, I bent down to unwrap the leash around my knees. But before I could get it off one ankle, Lucy made a mad bark and dashed for something (or some_one_) in the distance. Even though she was a small and light dog, this came unexpectedly and made me lose my balance. I made a dive to the ground, knocking someone over with me. I saw flaming, orange-red curls flash in my peripheral vision. I started panicking, thinking it was Rose, but before my mind could process that there was more than just one person on this ship with red hair, I scrambled to get up and was pulled down again. Whoever this was, Rose or not, had grabbed my ankle and struggled not to let go. I finally let my body go limp, and when I looked into the eyes of my enemy, she was not who I expected at all. She quickly got up, leaving me sprawled on the floor.

She was rude, in a sense, with angry, light-brown eyes, and pouty red lips. She didn't even give me her hand to help me up, not that I needed it. A little queasy, I got up and shook the invisible dirt off my dress.

"Ahem," she said. I thought she would just walk away as I fake-dusted my dress, so I avoided eye contact. But the ire in her tone made me lift my eyes with caution.

"I'm sorry," I stammered. "My dog-"

"That's all I need to hear," she said. Strangely, she still didn't leave. Instead, the indignation seemed to fade from her eyes, and her mouth opened in amazement. "Hey, I know you!" she exclaimed. "You're Danielle Fitz, the British girl said to marry Charles What's-His-Name!"

I blinked hard and gulped. "Well, I kind of… broke the engagement. But I am who you say I am."

"Well, that's too bad." The resentment and poutiness were completely relieved from her face. "I'm Omnaya," she said while giving me her hand.

I shook it, shocked. When did she get so nice? "Danielle, like you've said. That's some name you've got there."

"Yes, it's… something. But you can just call me Naya."

Naya had luscious, orange curls that cascaded down her back, with the most peculiar light-brown eyes spotted with flecks of gold surrounded by dark lashes. Her complexion was fair, and she spoke with a heavy British accent, unlike me, who had a slight one.

I nodded my head. "Of course, Naya…"

And with that we talked the whole day. We even dined at the Café Parisian, something I was planning to do with John. But at that time, John was forgotten. All I could think of was the fun my new friend I had just had, the funny, humiliating stories we told each other, and the laughter that faded and came back during each minute. We snacked on almost every dessert on the menu, mostly delicious French pastries, and finally had to stop ordering when our stomachs threatened to barf.

A little tipsy, and definitely pumped from the sugar, we stumbled and laughed on the A-Deck promenade. The sky was setting in front of us, a beautiful red-and-pink sunset. The ocean was a dark, sapphire blue that calmly moved back and forth. I felt like I had known Naya for years.

As we giggled our heads off, the world felt kind of dizzy. I thought I saw a figure in the distance, a man in an oversized overcoat, sulking with a depressing frown on his face, but my eyes couldn't focus.

My knees began to wobble, and, after a few seconds, could not support me. "Danielle!" Naya shrieked.

The last thing I saw was the man in the overcoat huddled over me, concern and longing in his words as he whispered, "Danielle…"

_The room certainly belonged to a young girl. With the large amount of pink and white, and not to mention the dolls and plush animals, it was as though the small bedroom was too fake to be real. Just then, a small girl with short, blonde curls entered the room and slammed the door behind her. She wore, of course, a pink dress and was carrying around a pink teddy bear. I cringed at the sight. It was too much of one color for my taste._

_The girl set the bear down on a chair, close by me. I then realized that I was sitting on a short, wooden chair, that was quite uncomfortable. _

"_I'm so sorry I am late. My daddy held me back again," she said, a pinch of fear in her voice._

_I answered in a voice not like mine at all. "Prissy, I know. And if I could do anything, I'll take you away from this horrid world of society and riches. It will be just you and me, in our own world with our own rules."_

_Prissy's eyes gleamed with pride and respect. "Really? Just you and me?"_

"_Yes," I replied. "Just you and me."_

_We both picked up our small, porcelain teacups (we were having a tea party, I guessed) and clinked glasses._

_Just then, I realized I was no longer Danielle Fitz: I was someone else. But before I could grab the hand mirror facing down on the table, the scene changed to a man with a thick mustache, angry wrinkles, a red face, and steaming blue eyes. The girl I saw before was crying, and the man raised his hand above his head and let it smack down on the little girl's cheek. I gasped, but no one seemed to hear. The scene changed again. This time it was of the same girl, Prissy, sniffling miserably as she packed away her many pink things in an old, ragged suitcase. The same man, which I presumed to be her dad, walked in and quickly said something to her, avoiding eye contact. All sounds and voices were mute at this time, and I couldn't read lips, so what was happening was confusing me. _

_Prissy just nodded, rubbed her nose on her arm, and closed the suitcase shut. The scene once more changed, and this was of Prissy boarding a ship… the exact same ship I was on now! She was somewhere aboard right now as I speak! But, unlike me, she looked somewhat sad and lonely. I pitied the small girl. _

_Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned around. A bright, cheery smiled appeared on her face as she lifted her arms for a hug. The woman bent down with beautiful gloved hands, and she was…_

I gasped for air as my eyes quickly fluttered open. I was breathing hard, and a cold sweat had appeared on my forehead. I was in a white cot, and I immediately knew I was dragged to the ship's hospital. It was also dark out, for the moon shone brightly through the small available porthole right across the room. I sighed as fresh new tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn't believe that after all that struggle of confusion and curiousness, I never figured out who the woman was! The one I impersonated, the one that the little girl named Prissy seemed to love. For some reason, I felt really close to that anonymous person. I knew right then and there that she must be someone I know, but I had no time for conclusions.

Two figures sat in two chairs across the room, slumped, as I quietly pulled the covers off my legs. One was Naya, since the moonlight hit her gorgeous skin and shone on her brightly. The other I had to squint to see, for he or she pulled the chair up in the dark, gloomy corner in the far back. In a voice much too soft for even me to hear, I whispered, "John…"

As if my words were powerfully strong and audible, he lifted his head. At first he said nothing, not believing all that was happening at the moment. Then, he blinked and continued to stare at me. I swear I could see his sparkling green eyes through the faint bit of light that filled the room. My eyes swam with tears as all that was currently happening in my life overwhelmed me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a little louder than last time. He didn't respond. He only sat there, staring at me as though I was not real, and continued to blink. _For sure this must be a dream, _I thought miserably. _It's too awkward and strange to be real._

And so I slowly fell back on the covers, curling up into a disfigured ball, I drew my knees up to my chest in a fetal posistion. I began to cry, but it was silent; the only proof of my tears were the small drops of salty water that poured out of my eyes and onto my delicate cheeks.

What is happening? Why am I seeing these visions, or feelings, or whatever they are? No matter what I do, I can't possibly change the future. For all I know, the dreadful future is plummeting ahead.

At that thought, I shivered, and I was sure I heard the faint noise of iron against ice in the distance. My mind seemed to drift into the distance, as I heard a tender, loving voice say, "I trust you."


	9. Iceberg

**Chapter 8**

**Iceberg**

**April 14th, 1912**

The next morning, all seemed to return to normal. Naya continually asked me how I was, and kept ending with, "I just hope it never happens again." John continued to ignore me, and Charles still hated me. Why was life so difficult?

The morning was bright, and the ocean a beautiful blue as we steamed ahead. Even in my melancholy state I still smiled through my sadness. It was quite a beautiful morning.

I had to attend church that day, since it was a Sunday, and Mother forced me to stand next to Charles. She kind of pushed me into him, and with eyes full of hatred, I took a step back. We just stared at each other for a few moments, lips straight and tight, eyes widened in anger. We were then passed out pages of hymns, and after both aggressively grabbing them, turned to face the captain as we repeated the lines written. The last line of the morning that day sent a shiver down my back; I hesitantly, with a shaky voice, read, "For those in peril on the sea."

I made an immediate dash for the promenade deck when church ended; I didn't want to miss out on the sunny day. When I got there, it was completely empty. Through my happiness and joy of the shining sun, I closed me eyes and danced around the deck, a quirky smile on my face.

"Danielle?"

My eyes snapped open, and I tripped on my raised foot. Through my attempts of catching my balance, I actually made a dive for the floor, hitting my head on the cold wood. I rubbed my head as I groggily blinked to cover the colors that flew past my eyes. A muscular hand reached out to help me up, and when I looked at his face, I gasped in happy shock.

"John?" I exclaimed. A wide smile appeared on my face as my eyes glowed with a whole new brightness.

He shrugged his shoulders, his hand still outstretched. "Yep," he said.

I held onto his hand as he pulled me up, and I made a mad dash to hug him. I knocked him to the floor this time, causing both of us to fall. I smiled, a little giddy, for I never expected him to ever talk to me again. "What are you doing?" I lamely asked.

"Walking the decks, taking some fresh air. It's a lovely day, you know. I never expected to run into you."

My cheeks flushed red. "Oh," I said, the emotion in my voice disappearing. "I am so sorry for interrupting your stroll, then."

"No!" he yelled as I stood back up and was prepared to leave. "Stay."

I waited for him to get up, and when he did, he tried to hold my gloved hand, but I hid both behind my back. Disappointed, he dropped his arm, which hung limply against his side. I felt a little guilty, but I was confused, angry, and shocked. What was happening with him? I thought he hated me!

"Listen, Danielle," he said, with some pain in his voice. We started to walk. "I remember what happened last night. The only reason I was staring was, well, because I was in deep thought over all that has happened. Seeing your face, deep with sorrow and guilt, made me think of what I've done. I've caused you too much distress, and I wish to now take that away."

I was in stunned silence. I found my voice a few seconds later and replied, "John… You don't know what that means to me." I then kissed him on the cheek, and tried not to laugh as his face started burning red. "I'm sorry for all I've done, too."

"Now that that's all cleared up," he said, with a merry spring in his step, "what do you want to do?"

Flickering away what seemed to be excess water (also known as tears), John blinked in stunning, joyful silence. "O-Okay," he stuttered, and I just laughed more.

...

"And then he said that he felt so much pain for the trouble he has been causing me, and wishes to fix it," I half-said, half-laughed as Naya and I kicked warm, pure sea water at each other. We had giggled nonstop since we entered the room containing the swimming baths, and it all started when Naya said, "He likes you!"

"Ooh, say more! What happened after that?" Naya shrieked as a tsunami of water came flying her way. Trying to avoid it, she fell sideways into the bath, sputtering water when her head emerged at the surface. "Watch it!"

I laughed as I pulled my hair back, and then splashed in as well. When I surfaced, I told Naya, "I asked him to take me to dinner tonight, at the Café Parisian."

"Aw!" Naya beamed. "You like him!"

We laughed again some more.

After swimming in the baths for a few more minutes, Naya and I decided to relax at the Turkish steam baths. While we had been drying our hair as best as we could, we chatted about how wonderful the steam baths sounded, and the remarkable reviews it has so far gotten. "I can't wait to relax this mind while thinking of John!" Naya exclaimed. I threw a towel at her, and she ducked, the towel only touching her shimmering orange curls by a slight inch.

"Stop it!" I yelled, laughing a little. "So what if I like him? It's not like I'm engaged anymore!"

Naya stopped laughing. "Oh! Oh, my! I forgot…"

"It's okay…" I said.

_But nothing will ever be._

..._  
><em>

"That was the most _amazing _experience in my _whole_ life!" Naya rambled on about as we entered my cabin.

"I know!" I babbled. "Who ever thought a steamy room could be so relaxing?"

"Talk about an expensive sauna!" We both laughed.

Pulling on cleaner, drier clothing, we made a dash for the Parisian Café. It was noon, and we both decided we wanted more of that fine French food for lunch. We practiced our French, starting from greetings to _preferées_, practicing telling time and ordering _repas_, and finally ending with _salut_!

We giggled as we walked next to the setting sun, which turned the sky an amazing color of oranges, reds, pinks, and purples.

"Wow," Naya said. "I've never noticed how beautiful and calm a sunset can be." She put her arms on the railing, her orange hair flying in the short breeze. I joined her, putting my gloved hands on the railing as well.

"My grandfather used to tell me that seeing the sunset every afternoon was a gift from God. Some people don't get to appreciate it that often; those people who are selfish, thinking that the world revolves around them, and those who are just too cruel to picture a world other than having power. It's not always about wealth, power, or buying things. It's all about family. And the homeless… they have something to appreciate. To end another day with a sunset is truly an amazing factor; for they end it with the ones they care and live for."

Naya smiled at me. "That's so true." Our once happy, calm expressions disappeared with pictures of sorrow and pain. "What ever happened to your family, Naya? I've told you so much about mine, but you've never told me one bit of information about yours."

Naya's eyes swarmed with tears, which slowly dripped down her delicate cheeks. "They died. Many years ago. My father and mother, who meant everything to me… My brother, who was my best friend… We got raided by bloodthirsty killers, who stole all our things and sold us as slaves. We used to live in Egypt, you see, but I was born in England and grew up with a British accent. It was a year of famine, and everyone was suffering because of it. But instead of selling us off, they killed us one by one: except for me. They thought they'd get a lot of money out of me, with my strong upper-body and supposedly beautiful features. And that's how I got here." She sniffed, and a small smile played on her face. "I should feel grateful that they sold me to someone with a heart and place for me."

My mind swarmed with confusion. How could this be? People were rarely that desperate, even through hard times, to commit bloody murder. It seems like the world is much more dangerous than I've pictured, especially out of Europe…

"I'm s-so sorry," I said, my voice shaking from shock. "I don't know if this will make you feel better, but I've lost my one-and-only little sister a few years back."

She smiled a weak smile. "It doesn't." Then her smile was more genuine. "Because you're my friend, and everything you've been through, I feel the same degree of pain."

I smiled through my own heartbreaking tears. We hugged and watched the sunset more. "So it's official?" I said.

"What is?"

"That life can surely be better in the future."

She nodded. "If we choose to think that way."

...

"Danny, where are you? Your date is in thirty minutes, and I can't find your butterfly hair pin!"

No moment had passed in the last hour that haven't had John in it. Naya and I spent an hour looking through my dresses, trying to find the best one. We finally settled on a simple white and lavender, which commented my figure nicely.

"Ugh!" Naya had exclaimed annoyingly an hour ago. "You have nothing to match that perfect dress! Not one single thing that can go in your hair!"

"So? I can just wear my hair in a fancy style," I said. I refused to wear my diamond broach, which I never wore in the first place, in fear of losing it.

"No! That will not do! We must find something to actually compliment your hair, not just a fancy style! Hm… I think I know someone who might have something."

I braced myself, hoping that Naya won't have a nervous breakdown after fretting for a couple hours.

"Do you know anybody by the name of Rose DeWitt Bukater?"

My jaw dropped in mental shock; of course I knew her, she's been in my mind since the beginning of the voyage. "Y-Yes," I stuttered, and I tried to keep my jittery, stunned nerves under control.

"She's on this deck, in the millionaire's suite. I'm pretty sure you know where that is, I assume?"

I nodded my head.

"Then go there and ask for a hair pin that matches lavender!" And with that, she shooed me away so she could fix a tiny tear in my dress.

My heart pounded dreadfully fast as I made my way down the hallway. What if he was there? What if I catch them at a bad moment? What if they're together, and Cal enters, and-

I stopped my mind from thinking these thoughts. Jack isn't allowed up here anyway. And Cal will certainly be in the Smoking Room, chugging down brandies and smoking big cigars. With a shaky hand, I knocked on the door to the millionaire's suite. A young woman, probably in her thirties, answered. She had dark, straight hair put up in a bun, and wore an apron, which made her a maid.

"Excuse me, I am looking for Miss DeWitt Bukater. Is she here at the moment?" I had said.

She nodded her head and beckoned me in.

"Miss, a young woman is here asking for you," the maid said.

"Who exactly, Trudy?" Rose's voice came from a room connected to this one.

"What is your name?" Trudy asked politely.

"Tell her that Danielle Fitz is here to see her."

"Danielle Fitz, miss. She says she has come to see you."

"I'll be there in a moment," Rose's voice said in a tone I recognized as surprise and wonder.

The room was by no means luxurious; it had extravagant, oriental furniture, and a fireplace to match. It had its own private promenade deck, and a couple of rooms as well. _Millionaire's suite, huh? I would have never guessed, _I thought sarcastically.

Rose stepped out of the adjoining room. She wore a beautiful, dark-blue dress, with high-heeled boots and delicate, white gloves. Her face showed much sorrow and longing. I wondered what might have happened.

"Hello, miss," I said. "I was just wondering if you have any hair accessories that can go with the color lavender?"

"Oh, yes," she sighed. She reached up to her hair, which was out of its usual bun, only a small bunch of it pulled up in the back. She grabbed on to a butterfly comb, one which was, as she put it in my palm, exquisitely beautiful.

When she turned to leave, a dreadful thought swept into my mind, and I blurted out, "You rejected him, didn't you?"

A wave of curiosity and sadness burst like flames inside me as I saw Rose's shoulders sag and her chest move up and down slightly, as if in pain.

When she didn't answer, I declared, "He confessed his true feelings for you, and you just left? Saying you'd be better off with Cal? Miss, I barely know you, but I do know that that's all a lie!"

With a sorrowful sigh, Rose replied, "Yes, you're right. It was all a lie. But I've been threatened with my life to stay away from him."

"J-Jack's his name, right?"

She meekly nodded.

"Oh, yes, I remember him." A small smile spread on my face, and I retained a small giggle as I remembered the sparkle in each of their eyes as they danced together at the steerage party. "You can't reject love, miss."

Giving me a startled, frightened look, she said, "How do you know all of this? It is, frankly, none of your business."

"Let's just say that I know much more than I should, and I never knew it."

Tears finally escaped her eyes. "I can't believe I did that. I'm such a fool!" she sobbed. "My mind, m-my mind is so confused. I don't know what love feels like; I've never been loved before, not even by my father, who decided to kick the bucket and worsen my life."

I politely stood there at the door, waiting for her grief to be poured out after being filled to the brim.

"And then he was there, after all my loneliness and pain, and he guided me away from my wretched life; told me more about how life should be lived. Like a shooting star," she mesmerized, a smile creeping up to her tear-filled eyes, "a beautiful star that makes its way across the universe to wherever it wishes to go. A tumbleweed blowing in the wind."

Her smile disappeared in a flash, and a frown wrinkled her skin. "I lost that chance. He hates me now, that's for sure." And, with that, she wiped her watering eyes on her elegant sleeve.

I handed her my handkerchief, and with a voice full of promise and reassurance, said, "It's not too late… if you go now. But, it will be, once the sunset disappears beneath the ocean."

She stared up with me, and with an uncertain, joking kind of matter, said, "What are you, a psychic or something?"

I chuckled. "No!" I said. "I'm just a really good friend." I took her gloved hand in mine, and slipped the butterfly pin back in her palm. "You want this back, I'm sure?"

Rose took it back gratefully. "Yes. It was given to me by my grandfather, the only one who really loved me in my younger years. But, he's long gone now. For a second, while I was grieving, I wished to never see the ones I loved, or anything that reminded me of them, ever again. So, that's why I gave you that, thinking maybe that Jack will disappear…"

"Either way, he's still here. He's out there, but he's planted himself in your heart, _that's _for sure." With a goofy, romantic smile, I said, "He loves you."

And we both laughed. "He loves me?" Rose asked, uncertain. "He loves _me_?" she repeated, pointing to herself, shock and realization filling her eyes. "He loves me!"

I laughed. "Yes, he loves you."

"Jack Dawson loves me!" A dreamy looked appeared on her face as she exclaimed his name. She then made her way out of the cabin door, boasting about how sorry she was for disappearing without a proper farewell, but I just nodded her off and told her not to worry about it. "After all," I had said, "he may be waiting for you to come back as well."

...

"Danielle!" Naya screamed. "Where is it?"

I walked into the bedroom, a smaller version of Rose's butterfly pin in my palm. I handed it to her. "Gosh, Naya," I said facetiously, "I never knew you had such a loud mouth."

Naya mimicked me, and we both laughed. She tightened my dress around my waist, and put my hair up in the same fashion as Rose's earlier. I grabbed my gloves, and Naya asked, "All set?"

I nodded, butterflies in my stomach.

"My little girl's growing up," Naya said, pouting her lip and putting her arms out. I went in for a hug. "Thanks, Naya," I sighed. "You're the best friend anyone can have."

...

After celebrating a night full of candlelight, delicious food, and romantic conversations, John and I made our way around the promenade deck, watching the last of the sun officially disappear beneath the calm waves. We stared up at the forming stars, watching at how they twinkled and glowed, as though the world will never see daylight again.

"They are beautiful," I said after some silence had thickened.

"They remind me of you," John said. I looked up at him, wonder in my eyes. "Yes." He smirked. "I just said that."

I slapped his arm, and, laughter choking my throat, said, "That's very sweet of you. I've never been talked to that way."

"Well-"

We were interrupted by a series of giggles and loud, giddy voices. John and I both jumped in alarm; he ran in front of me incase it was some drunk addict who decided not to stop chugging tonight.

It turned out to be, and my face was still widened in surprise and shock, Charles and Naya.

"Charles?" I asked, blinking fast to see if it was real or not. He had his arm around _her. _"Omnaya?"

They both stopped, blinked up at us, and immediately separated. "Danielle!" they both exclaimed, a nervous laughter breaking there from being a silence. "It's you!" Naya added in nervously.

"Yes, it's me," I said, annoyance creeping into my voice. I tried not to sound like I was jealous, because I wasn't. "I would like to know why my ex-fiancé had his arm around my current best friend." I put my hands on my hips to make it look serious.

"Oh!" Charles exclaimed, a blush moving from his cheeks to neck. "Well, we were both bored, and we decided to just….enjoy the night?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" Red-hot anger flowed through my body. _What is really going on?_

Charles was about to blurt another senseless answer, when Naya stepped in front of him to shush him. "Do you want to know the truth, Danielle?" she asked, with guilt deep in her eyes.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. I tried to contain my anger for the time being, but it was hard not to yell with all the emotion that threatened to burst out any moment.

"Well, you see," Naya began, her hands shaking from nerves, guilt, and embarrassment, "Charles and I met each other onboard the ship before I met you, before he met you, even, and we kind of just… took things from there."

A face of confusion replaced my strong, angry sensations. "So you're saying, basically, that you two are a couple, right?"

Naya nodded briskly; her face flushed pink. She had her hands behind her back, which were still shaking, from the trembling of her shoulders.

"Behind my back?" I was speechless, and the words left my mouth in a stunned stutter.

This time, Charles pushed in front of Naya and said, "Danielle, it's nothing to fret about. I mean, we're not even engaged anymore. Please, leave Naya alone about this; I was the one that asked her on a date first."

I had a blank expression on my face. My mind was so jumbled up, and it could hardly take what it just heard; I wouldn't be surprised if an aneurysm killed me at that moment.

Then, I nodded blamelessly; my eyes blinked and welled up, my arms stopped shaking from anger and shock. I opened my arms and took Naya into a hug, a hug only best friends shared.

"This was a shock," I confirmed as Naya and I broke apart, "not a simple surprise. But, I've got to admit, I knew something was strange the first time I mentioned Charles to you."

Naya only gave me an apologetic look.

"So," John said, breaking the silence, "what do you guys want to do now?"

I turned around to look at the setting sun, at its point of final disappearance. The sky was a dark purple, along with other colors, such as sapphire blue and maroon red.

"Make each and every moment count," I declared, smiling at the sunset.

"What do you have in mind, more specifically?" Charles asked.

"Let's see…" I began.

...

"Nicholas! How strange to have run into you!" For the past three laps around the ship's promenade deck, John, Charles, Naya, and I were enjoying the last warmth of sun until the North Atlantic air chilled us to the bone. "We were just headed to the Parisian Café again, to get some dessert. The price is on Charles' and John's heads!" I joked. I heard John laugh and Charles snort. I bit my lip to prevent a creeping smile.

"So," I said, reaching Nicholas, who was staring at the last bit of sun, "buy as much as you like."

"That's a great offer, but-"

"No buts!" Naya interrupted, coming up behind me and putting her elbow on my shoulder. "Some offers are meant not to refuse."

I pushed her away. Clearly, something was bothering Nick. "What's wrong?" I asked in a more serious tone.

"Nothing is wrong," he said. "Just a bit… bored… that's all."

"Then come join us." I took his hand and pulled him away from the railing. "It will be fun!"

We made our way to the French restaurant, all chattering about funny life stories and gossip heard from the ship's passengers.

"I heard that Madeleine Astor is pregnant," Naya said knowingly. "J.J. and her have only been married for, what, a few months? And she's only eighteen. I also heard that J.J.'s son is almost or as old as her! Maybe even older! Or younger…"

"I didn't know that," John and I said at the same time. I nudged him gently with my shoulder, and he snickered and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Just some rumor I also heard. I believe it, too. Look closely next time she's around; it's obvious that she's trying to hide it," Charles added in.

"What do you think, Nick?" I turned around to see him sulking behind. "True or false?"

"Well, I don't know! I don't get out much."

We all laughed.

...

"That was delicious!" Naya exclaimed, red and giddy in the face. We had all feasted on sugary, sweet stuff, along with a slight alcohol-suffused beverage to celebrate a wonderful voyage. We were all flushed in the face, laughing so hard. Even Nicholas was in the mood!

We walked around the deck longer, a sliver of the sun remaining. We talked so loud, the people around us gave us looks of disturbance. Maybe it was the fact we were laughing all like maniacs. We made our way to the bow of the ship, our minds racing wildly as the alcohol affected our mood, attitude, and thoughts.

John jogged to the very tip, and, stepping on the rail, and exclaimed, "I'm the king of the world!" By then, all of our faces were so red, and our stomachs were punctured so much by laughter, Naya had to get down on her knees to prevent from falling flat on her face.

Just then, an image of a woman and a man blocked out the world around me. _She went back to him, _I thought, a smile spreading across my face. _It was all admitted here. _

I ran over to John, practically tripping over my own stumbling feet, and threw my arms around him as he made his way down the railing. "I love you!" I declared. He hugged me even tighter back, and he kissed my head.

"I love you, too." Naya imitated gagging behind us, and I heard Charles and Nick laughing along twice as hard. I turned around and made a dash towards Naya. She shrieked, and we chased each other down the deck, the boys on our heels.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I shrieked as we passed by a photographer packing up his camera for the day.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, breathless. "May we have a picture done of all of us?" I took out a dime from the pocket of my dress. With a sigh, he nodded.

"Come here and calm yourselves!" I giddily said; I motioned them to come closer and pose for the camera.

"At the count of three," the photographer said, just as Naya put her arm around my shoulders and I did the same.

"One… Two… Three."

A small click was heard, and we all watched as the camera lens closed and opened again. A photo popped out right under the lens. I smiled as he handed it to me. "Thank you," I kindly said.

All of us made our way back to first-class entrance located somewhere on the deck. As we made our way, John's arm around my shoulder, I smiled at the picture and said, "I don't want to forget this day, or this voyage, for as long as I live." He smiled at me, and I kissed his cheek.

How right I was. I will remember this voyage, this day, everything, for the rest of my life. But not for the good it brought: for the absolute terror it will bring.

The sun finally slipped beneath the ocean, the moon replacing it. Little did most know, that with the sun disappearing, the _Titanic_ had received its last scrap of warmth for the final time.

**_April 14th, 1912 11:40 P.M._**

"_Promise me t-that you'll survive… that you will n-never give up… No m-matter what happens… no matter how h-hopeless… Promise me now, Rose, and n-never let go of that promise."_

"_I promise."_

"_Never let go…"_

I woke up to the predictable sound of iron against ice. _I knew it! _my mind screamed, still groggy and trying to process what it just dreamt of. _You _knew _this was going to happen!_

Breathless, I jumped out of bed and pulled on a warm jacket. Slipping on my shoes, I forgot to grab a lifejacket on my way out. I just knew that I had to do something before this got out of hand.

I stopped at Charles' door and banged on it. "Wake up!" I desperately cried after he didn't answer for a couple of minutes. The door finally opened, Charles looking at me with pure annoyance. He clearly just woke up.

"Get dressed up warm!" I said, my voice turning into hysteria as my brain finally knew what was happening. "T-The ship…" I further explained, "…it's happening."

"What's happening?" he grumbled.

"It's sinking!" I broke down into tears of fear. "I knew this was going to happen, and look! I did nothing to warn of it!"

Seeing me going hysterical, Charles pulled me into his cabin. Cabin neighbors opened their doors to see what was going on, some just out of curiosity while others yelled to keep quiet.

"Calm down now, Danielle! The ship is not, as we speak, sinking!"

I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "Where's your proof? I've dreamt, I've had visions… feelings… _whatever_, I felt the impact of the iceberg-"

"Now you're just talking rubbish!" Charles exasperated. "Total nonsense! Like a madman!"

I wiped tears of frustration from my eyes. "Hundreds of people are going to die, unless we do something right now! Either you're with me, or you're not."

I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for his answer. Eventually, he just shrugged his shoulders, and was going to open his mouth to give an explanation, but I just said, "Fine!" and stomped out of the cabin. Sighing, I made my way to Nicholas's cabin.

"Nicholas!" I screamed. He immediately opened the door, and I gave him a grateful, tear-filled smile as I said, "Those feelings… they've come true!"

His face paled, and he set off to get some warm clothes and shoes on. He locked his door on the way out, and said, "Let's get started, then."

We made our way to John's cabin; I tried not to knock hysterically on the door, knowing that he will worry. Instead, I did my best to control my nerves as I knocked on his cabin door with my hand shaking. When he opened the door and saw our worrisome faces, he instantly knew something was wrong.

"The ship," I explained, "is sinking, as we speak."

I ran into his arms and started to sob of fright. "I knew this was going happen…," I mumbled. He soothingly rubbed my back and let us enter his cabin. He gave Nick a look of confusion, and made me sit down and explain everything. Of course, I told him everything that had happened in the past few days, from Jack and Rose to the visions of a small girl by the name of Prissy.

"And you've told no one except Nick here about it?" he concluded.

I nodded. "Yes." I then took out my handkerchief and blew the drainage out of my nose.

John sighed and put his face in his hands as he tried to comprehend all of what he just heard. Eventually, he said, "We'll head out right when I get changed into warmer clothing."

Nick and I both nodded and silently waited for the horrors of the near future to strike.

Just like I thought, the empty decks began to fill with panic-stricken passengers, who all started to make their way to the patiently-waiting lifeboats.

As the first class began to fill up, John, Nick, Naya (who we picked up on the way to the deck), and I looked around for a sign of Rose or Jack.

"I don't see them," I said. Everyone else agreed with me. My mind grew heavy of dread and despair. After a few more minutes, I finally said, "They are probably keeping steerage locked below." I made a move for the entrance to the Grand Staircase, but John took my hand. "No!" he desperately whispered. "It will be too dangerous. The ship is known to be sinking fast. Remember when we asked Mr. Andrews earlier? An hour or two, at the most."

I nodded. Of course I remembered. After picking up Naya, we ran into Thomas Andrews, the ship's designer, who we pleaded desperately with for an answer of what was happening.

"But these people mean a lot to me," I said, sympathy and courage in my voice. "Maybe not as much as you mean to me, but enough for me to want to try."

John nodded. "We'll split up, then." Nick and Naya nodded their heads in agreement. "Nick and Naya, you two stay and look around the upper class areas. Danielle and I will search the lower decks. Got it?"

We set off. "John," I said, breaking the silent, fear-building moment, "let me just go. I'll be fine by myself. I'm not a delicate creature anyone can control or command. I can manage myself. Besides…" I abruptly stopped and stared into his eyes. "You mean so much to me, and this is more of my mission than yours."

He took my hand and squeezed it. "You mean so much to me, too. Wherever you go, I go too, okay? I need to know you're all right."

I nodded hesitantly, tears escaping my hazel eyes. He reminded me so much of Jack, and me so much like Rose. "Anywhere I go, you go too," I repeated.

So we continued on, making our way down corridors and through passageways, until we finally ended up at a locked gate. "Listen, John," I said. "Find a crew member and take his keys, no matter what it takes. We need to unlock these gates, and I'm pretty sure please is not going to help."

"But-"

"No more buts, John! I need to do this by myself now."

He nodded, a sullen, scared look on his face; he turned and left me. I was all alone. I ran down the corridors as well, looking for another gate to try and unlock. _I'm sorry, John. _Tears swelled in my eyes. _But I should be the only one doing this._

"Oh!" I exclaimed. A crew member was passing through a hallway when he saw me. "Excuse me, sir! Please, I need your keys."

He gave me a confused look. "What for, miss?"

"Please, or I may have to take it by force!" I tried to act threatening, but my hands were shaking so bad from the cold air rising from the rushing water a couple decks below, and my mind was dull from the bundled nerves of fear.

"Now, miss," he calmly said, "we need the keys at the moment to lock all the cabin doors so no one comes back for a special trinket or what-not."

I glared at him. "Give it now, or I will knock you out cold."

When he opened up his mouth to protest, I bundled up my fist and hit him straight in the jaw. He instantly grabbed for his nose, which started to bleed, and I grabbed for his keys as his eyes cleared from shock. "Wait, you!" he yelled, but I didn't look back. I just kept running, shocked at what I had done.

I found the nearest gate and fumbled through the many keys, stabbing each one in the key hole until one finally clicked. I then made my way down the slightly slanted steps, and into a small trickle of cold water. I shrieked at the touch. _Below freezing, _my mind kept repeating.

My feet sloshed up to my ankles as I made my way farther down. I heard screams and shouts coming from every direction, but my mind was too confused of which way to take. I had to save all these people before it was too late, otherwise they'll drown down here. And I knew that I would not want to experience that.

"J-Jack?" I said, hesitantly. Maybe he was around here somewhere, Rose with him, an extra arm to take mine and lead us safely to the nearest lifeboat. But I knew it wasn't that easy. Life will never be that easy.

I rounded the corner to find a whole group of steerage passengers trying to open the gate by force. Even though I was shaking half to death, and my voice was cracked and awful sounding, I managed to say, "Wait! I have the keys." I showed them and jingled it, too, just to prove that I had them.

I made my way through the crowd and unlocked the gate. They all trampled out, only a few kind people bothering enough to say thank you. But, there was no Jack.

"God!" I prayed. "Help me get through this night!"

I searched every possible corridor, threading into freezing water and looking for Jack or Rose. There was no one there at all. Just me and the creaking walls and water-soaked cabins. With a gulp, I waded through waist-deep water and tried to see if there was a single soul in the place. "Hello?" I called. There was no answer but the sound of rushing water and groaning walls.

I whimpered. I knew I had to get out, but maybe it was that feeling taunting me that they're all dead that made me stay; I was determined to prove that feeling wrong.

"Danielle!"

I spun around to see Charles, panting hard and in a cold sweat.

"Charles?"

I was completely dumbstruck. I had no clue he would be the one to come and find me, not ever. "W-What are you doing?" I stuttered as he made his way toward me, sloshing water as he pushed his way through.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm finding you!" he explained. I nodded my head, my eyes glazed, still stunned. "Come on." He then attempted to take my hand and lead me back upstairs, but I pulled away from him. I tried not to look into his desperate, brown eyes, or see the sweat building at his golden-blond hairline.

"No!" I firmly said.

"Danielle, you don't possibly mean-"

"Stop your whining! I said no. There's a reason I'm down here, and I am trying to accomplish that reason-"

"And what is that?"

"Oh, something with much more significance and mortality than your reasons will ever be." Though I condemned him, I tried not to be so snappy. We were in a life-or-death situation, after all.

When he did not reply, I moved around a little more. The water was up to my elbows by now, and I frantically moved around my head, looking for any signs of human life. I sighed. "Let's keep moving, now," I told him, and he gratefully took my elbow and led me to the stairs. When we emerged, water dripped from our clothes, which were soaked through; luckily my dress was still opaque. My hair soaked my back even more, even though my scalp was dry, and water squished in my shoes. We were walking at such a fast, determined pace, that I said, "Slow it down and help me look, Charles, or I will blame you for incapacitating me."

I violently pulled my arm from his hand, and started looking down the hallways.

"What are you looking for, exactly, Danielle?"

"A person," I replied.

"That made things a lot easier."

I sneered. "No sarcasm, or I'll just purposely stay down here longer."

After a few minutes of thinking, Charles finally said, "We've got to get back on deck, Danielle."

My brain swelled from all the things I had to do. I felt as though all my friends and family were inundating me, and I was slowly struggling to accomplish it all. I was genuinely overwhelmed.

"Please, Charles, let me think things through and then we'll go above." He mumbled something and stopped talking.

"When are we going to get out of here?" Charles annoyingly asked me as I stopped again to think. We've searched all places where I thought Jack would be: that is, all the places not already drenched in water.

I gave a sigh of defeat. "Now," I whispered, and Charles gave a victorious smile. He led the way, making sure I was still following in my sulky posture.

"Once we get out of this," Charles said, relieved when we reached the Grand Staircase, "we can continue our lives as normally as before." He continued walking, but I had to stop. _No, _I told the pretend Charles in my mind, _nothing will _ever _be the same again._

And I knew, with all my heart and knowledge, that what I thought was true.

As I made my way up the staircase and to the deck, my mind overflowed with thoughts of despair. For all I knew, John could be dead right now, along with Jack. _If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't be in this mess. _If only I warned the captain more seriously about ice, if only I told Jack more sooner, if only I had never let John find the keys for me-

I stopped. The blood in my head pounded furiously, thoughtfully, uselessly. Nothing, and I mean _nothing_, could stop what was happening from happening.

_But I had that power… _

With a look at the starry sky, I straightened my back and forced myself to continue, no matter how hard it may be.

"Women and children only, sir," the officer firmly said. Charles had been trying to convince the man that he should be allowed on the lifeboat for ten minutes, not even giving me the chance to board. My eyes felt as though there were dark circles under them, and it was hard to eliminate the pool of dread that swarmed through my body. I knew that I might lose everything I've ever known tonight. Friends for sure, maybe even family. Why does life have to be so difficult?

"That's _enough_, sir," the officer yelled. "Now, please let the ladies with their children board first.

Shocked, Charles took a clumsy step back, causing him to trip over me and fall on the wooden floor. I didn't bother to help him up. _I need to find John now, before it's too late. Since I failed to find Jack, then I must at least find John… Or Naya, or Nicholas…_

I stepped over Charles, and walked away from his sprawled body at a fast pace, which then turned into a run. The blanket that had been respectfully put around my shoulders by a kind man I let go of, knowing that it would slow me down. I desperately searched the inside of the ship.

_Please be somewhere around here…_

With exaltation, a smile spread on my lips so wide, it was numb by the time she flew into my arms.

Lucy nipped at my heels, making me walk faster as we made our way back to the Grand Staircase after searching through the B deck hallways. I picked her up and tried to calm her squirming body. "I'm so glad I found you," I whispered into her cold, wet fur as I kissed her soft head. "I didn't notice how much I missed you until I saw you paddling your way from the filling second class hallway." She shook happily in my arms.

I wished to run to a lifeboat and jump right in, Lucy in my arms, and sail away into the distance with no worries or regrets following me; I knew that was not possible. I tried my best not to notice how steep the Grand Staircase was tipping, or how it was a struggle to make my way up the stairs, especially with a dog in my hands. It was no use

When Lucy began to shake even more and sneeze as we finally reached the deck, I picked up her floppy ear in my freezing hand and whispered into it, "Life _never_ goes as planned."

As we made our way through crowds of people, consisting mostly of men, that's when I realized all the boats were gone.


	10. The Longest Night

**Chapter 9**

**The Longest Night**

**April 15, 1912 2:10 P.M.**

The last distress rocket had been sent and exploded into the sky a while ago; the last lifeboat only a mere five minutes ago. _I had time, _my mind said, having a hard time processing the fact that all was doomed, and I wasted it all.

_It wasn't a waste! _the other half of my brain said. _You did it all for the good of finding your friends, while also having the qualities of dignity and seriousness. _

"Sure," I whispered under my breath. "I was so dignified."

Desperate, I began to study my surroundings for anything useful. A piece of debris, maybe, or something to hold on to.

_The rail. Go to the stern and hang on to the rail._

I made my way up the deck, struggling against the angle the ship was sinking at. Eventually, I held on to the railing to keep from slipping. The lactic acid in my legs stung my delicately-shaped muscles, leaving me breathless and shaky. "Just stay here," I said to myself, seeing stars float around me. "Stay where you are." My breathing came out in small, irregular rasps.

I grabbed on to the railing as tight as I could, my knuckles turning white. Lucy was in my arms, shaking like a little Chihuahua in the cold, and I looked down. The ocean was such a dark blue, it was considered black by my eyes, and certainly not welcoming. It was calm, however, with no waves or strong currents. It was like a monster luring its prey.

_But that doesn't matter, _I thought. _It's below freezing. _That's _what matters._

Gulping, I shakily looked away. Fear and adrenaline filed my nerves, causing my muscles to tighten and shake more. "This is it," I whispered to Lucy, who was whimpering and hoarsely barking at the swarm of silent, praying people left behind. "It will all be over soon."

A tear slid down my cheek, slowly. "Oh, John," I whispered, letting the tears fall onto Lucy's soft, little head. "I wish you were here with me."

The ocean swarmed closer below me, eating the ship up. I wanted to scream or do some kind of action showing terror, but I resisted the urge. I didn't want to make it even worst as it already was. I should never show fear in a terrible situation. I should at least die brave.

_One-third of the ship was left. One-fourth. _

I held Lucy closer and slightly released my grip from the railing. I got prepared to swim away from the ship before the suction pulled me down.

_One-fifth. One-sixth…_

I gulped, drew in some breath, and waited. In the next few seconds, the mighty ocean liner, the great _Titanic_, will be gone, and will lay at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean for eternity until bacteria and mollusks ate it up.

_One-eighth… _

_Gone._

The cold water paralyzed me as I fell into the ocean. I had to let go of Lucy, who kicked at me furiously and helplessly. My eyes were open, numb from the cold, and I watched the little dog swim to the top. Getting my strength and consciousness back, I kicked my legs and used my arms to pull against the rough current that sucked everything down.

_I'm down lower than I thought. _And it was true. After a few seconds of rapidly moving my limbs, I was still no where close to the surface.

Something came at me, ramming me above the eye, leaving a painful mark and warm, sticky blood. Letting the frigid waters bring me back, I began to kick again.

I was running out of air by the time I reached the surface. Gasping for some beautiful oxygen, I moved my wet, clingy hair away from my face and looked around me.

There was nothing but ocean, debris, and people. _Oh, God! Get me through this._

My lips turned blue, and my hair turned to hard, ice-covered frost. Moving my aching, numb limbs, I made my way through the debris and found something soft and furry.

"You s-silly dog," I stuttered, my air coming out in visible gasps as I pulled my dog out of a pile of floating chairs. "You g-got me w-worried."

I closed my eyes and pulled her soft, warm body close to mine to absorb the moment before reopening my eyes and holding on to the deck chairs. Lucy struggled from my grasp, and fell- _plop!_- in the water again. She began to dog-paddle and make little whimpering noises, swimming in one place, urging me to follow.

Confused, I let my body fall back into the ocean and let her guide me. "W-Where are you t-taking me?" I managed to say. But she was a dog, and could not answer in English. "Danielle, don't tell me you're going insane, too." I silently laughed, and a smile spread on my numb, cold lips as I swam through the icy water.

After a few minutes of cold exhaustion, my body began to protest about the long swim. "D-Don't give up," I told myself. But I knew it was hopeless. Whatever Lucy was doing, I wasn't going to live to see it.

I began to slow down, and my eyes began to droop. "Pull her in!" I heard someone yell. "And that little dog too!" I felt strong, warm arms wrap around mine, and my body departing from the frigid waters. A blanket was wrapped around me, but I barely felt its warmth before I went into unconsciousness, dark shadows playing against my eyes.

...

"Is she going to make it?"

My eyes opened, the images in front of me blurry and trying to become more clear.

"She looks fine to me, just a little blue. Look, her eyes are opening now."

When my vision cleared a little more, a warm, smiling face bent close to mine and asked, "Are you feeling better?"

I nodded, unsure of how I felt; my body was so numb.

"Good," the woman said. She had chestnut-colored hair swept up into a bun, with dark chocolate eyes that smiled even though they were full of sadness. Her lips held the same thing.

"That little dog in the blanket saved you there. If it wasn't for her, you probably would have never found another lifeboat."

I moved my head, my hair, flowing and clumpy down my back, free of ice, to the little pile of fur in the blanket next to me. Slowly moving up, I picked up the wet, shivering dog and placed her in my lap. Petting her with my cold, trembling hands, I kissed her head and said, "Thanks, you sweet King. You just saved my life."

The smile that was on my face disappeared when I heard the officer in the boat yell, "Right over here, look at this! Another young girl in need of rescuing!"

The women in the boat gasped as they looked at the girl; they blocked my view of whoever it was.

"Why, look at that!" a woman, who I could not distinguish in the dark, said. "She has saved a young infant from harm!"

"Don't just sit there!" another woman said. "Get her in here!"

The woman who asked how my health was bent down and picked up a soaking, young girl from the water, who was holding a small baby in her arms. The young girl and the infant were placed in front of me. My eyes immediately filled with tears, and I pushed Lucy off my lap to move the young girl's head on it instead. I didn't want to believe it, and I tried not to look too closely at her blue features.

"Oh, Naya!" I wailed. "Why did you do it?"

Her once red, beautiful lips were blue, and her eyes drooped, never to be wide open and curious again. Life was slowly leaving her like the leaves fall in autumn.

"Danielle?" she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Is that really you?"

"Yes! It's me, Naya." A small smile was plastered on my face. Tears flowed down my cheeks heavily, blurring my vision from seeing my dying best friend.

A smile of remembrance spread on Naya's lips. "How can I forget? I must be getting silly in the head."

I slightly laughed at her lame joke. Then, more serious, I sniffed and asked, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" she weakly said.

"Not get in a lifeboat."

"Because," Naya said, beckoning me a little closer, "I knew that you wouldn't either."

I slowly moved away from her face, a look of confusion on mine.

"I knew w-what you would d-do," Naya sighed. "I just wanted to be l-like you, Danielle. I've always been the kk-ind of person who tries to b-be more like her f-friends. I don't like b-being an oddball. G-getting into a lifeboat was s-silly. It w-would've made me w-weak. You're not weak, that's for c-certain. You're s-strong, Danielle." She smiled.

I knew what she was saying, but my mind still couldn't believe it. "Why would you ever want to be _me_?" I was such the odd-person-out, disbelief ran through my mind when she called _herself _the odd one!

"You are my b-best friend, Danny, and you know it. My f-first friend since that d-day... But we w-were different, way too d-different… And I just… w-wanted to be… more close to you." Her voice wavered at the end.

I smiled, a weak smile of understanding. "Don't _ever_ try to be me," I said. "You are perfect just the way you are. How can you be my best friend, then?"

Naya only smiled. "You were b-brave to go back, D-danny," she said when she finally decided to speak. "A-and I wanted t-to be brave, too."

I shook my head. "Don't think that you're a coward, Omnaya. Don't you see what you've already done? You've given me a friend, a much needed friend after leaving my hometown, and then saved this little baby as well. We both would have died without you."

"You r-really think s-so?"

I looked into Naya's eyes, which were serious and round with curiosity. Would this be the last time I would ever see her?

"I know so," I whispered.

After a few seconds of silence, Naya choked out, "Saving a p-person is all I need in life. And d-dying-"

"Don't say that, Naya, _don't say that_!" I said through clenched teeth, tight from desperation and regret. Her words made me tense.

"-in the arms of a friend is all I can ask for."

It was the end. One of best friends, who was supposed to be with me in America, promising to be together forever, went limp in my arms and never moved again.

"No…," I whimpered, my voice full of despair. "No!"

My mind was inarticulate. It refused to accept the fact my new life I had made when I left England was basically dead... along with Naya. _Dead._ Unable to trap my emotions, it exploded into words much too hard to understand. "No! No, come back! You promised me! _You promised me! _Please! PLEASE! Don't go, don't go…"

A hand went on my shoulder and immediately stopped my words. "She's gone," the nice woman said. "It's time to let go."

That's when I realized that Naya's lifeless body was still in my arms, having no reaction to my outburst. But I didn't have the heart to give her away. Holding her tighter, I shook my head.

It was hard to stop looking at her; how beautiful she was before. Now, her orange curls were a dark red, her face was blue, and her queer light-brown eyes were closed. Nothing of her will ever be alive again. I could picture her right now, waving to me from the sky, joining her family for eternity. _I'll join you some day, _I promised. _Some day in the future. Right now I have to live my life... Make myself_ another_ new one, after _Titanic_... _In my head, I was smiling at the thought of Naya at peace; but on the outside, I looked lost and empty.

The woman, giving me an understanding look, told me, "When life is thrown at you, all you have for a choice is to move on."

I loosened my grip and dropped the weight that was literally weighing me down, from body to soul.

How could I have ever dreamt happy thoughts? Life was cruel, and I had seen it with my own eyes just how awful it could be.

Silently to myself, forgetting my previous promise, I whispered, "Don't leave me here…"

**Author's Note: I would really like more reviews for this story. It's not a demand, it's just... I've worked on this for almost three years straight, and it gets the least reviews of all my stories, which mostly came to my head randomly one day and I just typed. But as for this... It's been worked on for a long while. It's been rewritten 3 times, edited at least twice, and proofread quite a lot. It's one of my favorite _Titanic _stories, and I appreciate all who's reviewed. **

**Just because it isn't a specific Jack/Rose story doesn't mean it's not good. In fact, Jack and Rose _are_ included in this story! And I'm not just talking about _Beyond the Ocean_, I'm talking about others who write about officers or passengers of the _Titanic_ and such. **

**I'm done with my rant. Review, and check out the poll on my profile if you haven't already! **

**~Samantha  
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	11. Rescue is at Hand

**Chapter 10**

**Rescue is at Hand**

**April 15, 1912 5:15AM**

A couple of hours made no difference to me. My best friend was still dead, and my mind still a pool of dreadful things. I knew, for one thing, that Jack was dead, along with others who I have not yet identified. I knew, for a fact, that my life will never be how it was a mere twenty-four hours ago.

And it all haunted me.

When the ship went down, the sound of gunshots had rung out and it had split in two, my eyes widening at the terror of it all. Then the screams, and how they all slowly stopped... And I knew what had happened. Oh, yes... I witnessed the death of 1,500 people.

Opening my eyes after a dreamless slumber, a bright blue sky greeted me along with the word _Carpathia_. We were rescued. But I took no notice, or even a hint of relief or excitement, on being back on dry land.

_It's still the same, _I thought. _We may be heading back to America, but my friend, or _friends_, are still dead. _

Sighing, I lifted the blankets off of me and held Lucy, now warm and dry, safe in my arms. "At least I still have you," I whispered in her furry ear. The lifeboat was raised off the water, and, unlike the women in the boat, I didn't shriek when it made threatening motions of tipping over. It won't make a difference if I fell over, anyway. I would just be pulled back up, broken with my pride still intact.

Holding on tight to the rope ladder that was thrown down to us, I shakily went up, the blood in my head pounding at the sudden movement. Seeing blotches of colors when I reached the top, touching the deck was the a worry, for I made a sudden lurch to the side, and collapsed on the hard wood. Gentle, strong arms pulled me up by the armpits and steadied me. Thanking them quietly, I followed Lucy down the deck, who was skidding in all directions. Apparently, she still had sea legs, too.

It wasn't hard to follow the little dog, since every person she ran into on deck looked down at the ground in shock or disgust.

"Lucy, come back here!" I called. I whistled for more effect.

The little dog came skidding back to me, some people shrieking as she ran through legs and jumped into my arms. I petted her to soothe my shaky nerves.

Finding a bench to sit down at, I plopped down on the hard seat and stared out at the ocean, the sun rising in the east.

"'It is the East, and Juliet is the sun'," I quoted. Surely, Juliet was not the ocean. Or maybe she was; if she could take her own life, she could take more, maybe even fifteen-hundred more. "Destiny," I whispered in Lucy's ear. "Everything happens for a reason."

But what, possibly, is_ this_ reason? To feel despair, sadness, and death? Coldness lurked in my every organ, ending in a shiver of dread as I thought of who out of the people I know are now dead.

_Omnaya, for sure. What about John? Charles? Nick? Are they all okay?  
><em>

Sighing, I pulled my knees to my chest and held Lucy closer to my face, to soothe me with her warmth. Maybe, just maybe, this won't be as bad as I thought it will be. Or was I wrong? Will I plummet because of the awful tragedy that had been thrown in front of me?

...

"Excuse me, miss."

I woke up in a crouched position, a stiff feeling in my back and neck. Yawning, I raised my head and blinked the blurriness from my eyes. _I've fallen asleep, staring at the ocean. _Now, the ocean was a light blue, the sun high in the sky. _The afternoon, maybe. Possibly two or three o'clock. _

"Yes?" I said, remembering that someone had asked me something.

"The lists are getting filled up, if you are looking for a loved one or friend." I looked into the eyes of a maid, maybe a stewardess, with light blue eyes filled with sorrow. It must be hard for her to repeat what she just said.

"Yes, please, I would like to take a look."

The stewardess pulled out sheets of paper from her skirt pocket, adjusting her blonde bun as she did so. Handing it to me, I nodded politely and started flipping pages.

I already knew Naya was dead. So I flipped to the Bs and searched for Charles Birmingham on the survivors' list. After looking through the it for five minutes, I finally gave up and dared myself to look at the victims' list that was still being filled out. Staring at me, as though it was meant to stand out, was the name Charles Birmingham, right when I flipped the page. Trying to swallow the lump in my throat and the tears spilling out, I looked through the Hs. But this time, I didn't bother looking through the survivors' list. I knew he was dead.

And I was right. When I opened to the page of last names starting with H, his was as though it was standing out, too.

John Harris.

To get away from this horrible world, I looked through the survivors' list again, this time looking for my parents. At least they were there: Jerry and Sarah Fitz. It was as though my life decided to start from the beginning again.

Deep in despair and pain as the reality hit me, I found Nicholas's name on the front page of the survivors' list. _My life is restarting itself by taking away the people I've met on this voyage. People I cared about.  
><em>

How did they know this? Don't tell me they've already collected the bodies of the dead…

Handing the papers back to the stewardess, who gave me a sorrowful sigh, I put my face in my hands and thought deeply of the last moments I'd spent with each of the people that died last night.

Charles. The last time I saw him, he was sprawled out on the floor, stunned by the fact he couldn't get into a lifeboat. I was pretty sure he tried again, but certainly that failed. He died, possibly, in the cold water, with none of the warmth and protection he could've gotten if he got in a boat. Shivering, I stopped thinking about it. It was all as awful as it all ready was.

Naya. She died in my arms, and her last words rang in my ears. _And dying in the arms of a friend is all I can ask for. _A few tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I immediately sniffed the pain away, though it still haunted my mind. _You will _always _be remembered, Omnaya. _I thought of her some more, and that small promise I made to her a few hours ago. A smile had formed on my face, but it immediately began to grieve.

_John._

_I never said goodbye to you, _my mind whispered. The wind blew at me, and I felt like it was a sign. It lifted my hair and skirt up a little bit, and it danced around me some more. _I wish I had never sent you away… _

My mind was completely numb. The fact that I will never see him again, never apologize for what had become of me, or that I possibly sent him to his doom, shocked me. I could picture him frantically running around below deck, looking for me, jumping into the icy water to see if I had drowned or stayed behind, waiting for him. Shaking with sobs, I closed my eyes and drained out these dreadful thoughts. _If only…_

If only I could have cared less. Why _had _Jack mattered more to me than my friends' lives? Why did I care so much for his life, and not others?

_Because she had to be free. _

It was Rose, for sure, that made me react as I did. Though everything backfired on me, and he still died in the end, she was much more miserable than I was. She wanted to be free, and he supplied that for her. I was fine the way I was; she needed to be loved more than I did.

It was as though all the events had culminated with death, including Jack's and all my friends'. How reflexive I was. Everything that I did was just shot back at me, and affected me in the worst way possible. I was trying to save Jack, but it didn't work out in the end. He was still dead.

"Danielle!"

Jumping out of my seat, Lucy curled up in a ball on the bench, sleeping, I turned around with tear stains on my cheeks.

"Nicholas!" I exclaimed, screaming it. I ran at him, throwing my arms around him, sobbing my eyes out into his shoulder. "They're gone…" I told him. "They're all gone…"

"I know," he whispered back into my ear. "I know…"

Breaking apart, his sparkling green eyes were deep pits of despair.

"Even though I didn't like him," I said, rubbing my nose, unladylike, on my sleeve, "he was still a friend, sort of, in the end."

"I know," Nicholas repeated, rubbing his own eyes, and I saw he was straining himself not to cry. "He was great in his own way."

"And Naya, Nicholas, you had to see what she had done! She saved a little infant from the frigid waters, risking her own life for it! She died a hero, Nick, and we should make sure she's remembered."

Nick nodded, too sullen to reply anymore.

"And John…" I whispered, trailing off as deep, painful memories seared my mind. "I don't know what happened to him."

Tears staining my cheeks again, Nick put his arm around my shoulder. "Well, I do."

Looking up at him, my eyes widened. "Tell me!" I demanded. Sitting back down on the bench, I stayed attentive as Nicholas told the story.

"He found Jack for you, Danielle, he did. He ran into me, frantically asking where you were, and demanded answers to questions he didn't understand. He asked who this Jack person was, really, and what he looked like. I described him how I've seen him, and mentioned him being with Rose, as well. He then dashed past me and ran down the hallway, that perfect blond head of his soaked with icy water.

"I followed him; hesitantly, at first (I was only going back to my cabin to pick up some money my father stashed in a box), but then decided to pick up the pace. You were more important, I realized, than some lousy money that would be no help after being soaked through and through.

"I found him talking to a steward, and describing Jack just as I had told him, and when the steward said he had no idea, he described you to him. John had that desperate plea in his face, along with worried, stiff muscles, and you should have _seen _his expression when the steward said no again. He kind of slumped and uncoiled a little bit, like a wind-up toy that needed to be wound up again, and searched the hallways some more.

"After a while of watching him search for you with no luck (believe me, it was hard to watch), I made myself present and promised to find Jack and Rose for him. We searched the second-class passageways, and it wasn't until we reached the deck that we found them. I distinguished Jack in the endless crowd to John, who immediately took off and tapped him on the shoulder. From the look of things, Rose was in a lifeboat, stiff and reluctant, as though she was going to jump out and not leave her lover. Jack had that sad look on his face, which I could make out even in the giant crowd, and was obviously heartbroken at Rose's departure. John seemed to confuse Jack, who, in the end, didn't bother to find you with us; at that point, Rose had jumped.

"She clung to the side, for I watched her there, and was pulled back on to the sinking ship by a few gentlemen. John, who was still declaring Jack should help and follow him, even though he was not listening, gave up right after Jack made a run for wherever Rose was headed. Defeated, he came back to me and shook his head. 'She's gone to us,' he had said. And, like the sullen, brave men we were, we watched the ocean swallow up more of the ship and waited.

"We waited for minutes, but it felt like hours. When the ship began to tilt to the point it was harder to keep our footing, we decided to jump. That was a bad idea, though. We let our feet hang off of the ship for a while, as we sat on the railing, until we let go. I reached the bottom first, and was immediately paralyzed by the cold. With the ship rapidly sinking next to me, it pulled me down a little. I resurfaced after much struggling, and looked around for John. I realized at that moment that we were probably separated by the suction, and that it was just me now.

"I knew that it was every man for himself. I made it clear that I was going to try to survive, and not give up like some of the people on board. I clung onto a piece of debris, which had held my weight quite well. It kept me away from the murderous water, and I relaxed after that. All I had to do then was wait.

"Eventually, a lifeboat came back. There were twenty and only two (as I recently heard) decided to come back. They picked me up, along with a few others, but that was it. John was never found by the officers patrolling the lifeboat. I didn't dare to look at the ocean, though. I didn't want to experience what was out there.

"He died looking for you, Danielle. He really tried. He wasn't like some others, who let the ocean take their lives away. He tried, Danielle, he really, _really _tried."

My mind was twice as numb as it was before. My lip quivering, tears all over my face, I said, "How dumb I was! If only _I _worked harder on finding him! Then none of this would have happened, and he wouldn't have died never finding me!"

I sobbed. It was all I could make of it. The story, I realized, was truly heartfelt, yet tragic, and it was all because of me. Nicholas patted my back, trying to calm me down. "Life will go on, Danielle."

After crying it all out, I gave Nick another hug and said, "Promise me that this new life will be better."

...

"_You promised me, though." _

_A little girl with long, curly blonde hair pouted at me. Again, I was the same mysterious person I was last time I was with this girl._

"_It may not happen, Prissy, darling," I told her, pure love drowning the true meaning of my words._

_Prissy stomped her foot, and said through her pouted lip, "You promised it would be just you and me!"_

"_I never planned to fall in love with someone so economically disadvantaged. I tell you everything, Prissy, but maybe this was a mistake telling you about him."_

"_No!" Prissy's stubborn attitude changed into sadness; she didn't want to lose her aunt's trust and friendship. "We can tell each other everything!"_

"_I'm telling you this." I got down on my knees and held her little face in my perfect hand. "I don't want you getting hurt. I'm taking the risk, and I don't want to drag you into it."_

_Prissy shook her head from my hand. "I _want _to take the risk too! Staying here with my daddy is a greater risk than living out in the streets!"_

"_But if you stay here, at least I know you'll have the money for being safe."_

_Prissy gave me a hard glare. "Do I even know you anymore?" She stomped around the cabin and took out a calendar. "On this date, you're supposed to marry _him. _You were trying to get away from money, and that's when you met the other him. Their names are something I am tired of saying; you talk about them too much, especially the other one."_

_I smiled goofily and tried to hide an evasive blush. "I know what I'm saying. It's me trying to get away from wealth, but… I don't know what will happen out there, and I don't want it to happen to you."_

_I started to turn to leave the room, planning my escape from my horrible first-class life to be with the one I truly loved-_

"_Jack!" Prissy screamed. "Jack won't agree with what you're saying!"_

_I turned around to see the girl's little face, crying now, and that's when I caught a glimpse of who I was impersonating from the mirror in the back room._

_I was Rose._

_...  
><em>

Shaking, I woke up in a cold sweat. I had fallen asleep on the bench with Nick, who was shoving me awake.

"Wake up, Danielle! You're having a bad dream!"

I moved my head off his shoulder and blinked. "Oh, my God."

"What?" he asked, curious and serious at my outburst.

"That little girl I've been dreaming about?" He nodded. "She's Rose's niece!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "What's that have to do with anything?"

"I do not know," I said. "It's just something interesting…"

...

_There it was again. The sound of iron against ice. The little girl, Prissy, jumped out of her bed and ran to the window. When she saw nothing major, she crawled back in the blankets and pulled her knees up to her chest, planting her head on her knees. _

_She thought of her aunt, Rose, who was planning to leave the ship with Jack, a steerage passenger who promised to take her away from her horrible life, which contained an arranged marriage she never wanted in the first place. It all started with money, ever since her great uncle died and left her aunt and great aunt in debt. "Does he ever keep his promises?" she asked the silent room._

_As though she had been waiting for a response, she threw the blankets off her knees again and pulled out a picture from under her pillow. It was of her and Aunt Rose, hugging each other and smiling widely at the camera in front of the Eiffel Tower. Smiling at their happy faces, she placed the picture back under her pillow and tried to get more sleep. _

_Meanwhile, her father and step-mother were getting ready to evacuate the ship. They knew it was sinking since the iceberg had been spotted, and they planned to make it out alive. After grabbing some cash that was stashed in the step-mother's jewelry box, they made a mad dash to the deck, leaving behind their daughter._

_Prissy had fallen asleep, but only remained that way for an hour. At that point, she woke up to the floor tipping, and the pictures hanging in her room by the artists Degas and Monet fall to the floor. Shrieking, she ran to her window again, and was speechless by what she saw._

_People flew by her window, jumping to their death and into the mighty waters below. Hyperventilating, she thought it all to be a bad dream and hid under her covers. Pulling out her favorite photo again, she held it close to her pale face, remembering the happiness she got from that picture. _

_After a while, the room slowly began to fill with water. Prissy was attempting to read a new novel that had come out last year, _The Phantom of the Opera_, which was left behind by her father and step-mother. Sighing, she gave up and put the book down; it was clearly too hard to read for a five-year-old. That was when she saw the evasive, crystal-clear water trickling into her room. She shrieked again and got out of bed, sloshing it around, thinking that if she kicked it, it might go away._

_But it didn't. In fact, it continued to fill until it stained one of the fallen paintings. Giving up, she ran back into bed to warm her numb, bare feet. She didn't even try to escape. She knew, from experience, that the door would be locked. _

_Eventually, the water reached her warm bed. It soaked her covers and caused her to shiver. Reaching for the photo under her pillow again, she gained some comfort from the exalt picture, but it only lasted for a short while. In less than an hour, the little girl known as Prissy Armsworth would shred up that picture and throw it into the sea of water that filled her room, her last words being "Traitor!" as she pictured her aunt safe in the arms of the gentleman named Jack who she never met. _

"_You promised me it will be just you and me! That we will share secrets and meet the people we wish to marry. You promised that we will together be forever, but now I am, instead, trapped in a sea of loneliness, never to experience these times with you again."_

_...  
><em>

Panting, I woke up. I was crying, and felt that my throat was sore, possibly from whimpering about Prissy's too-soon death. Bringing the pillow up and resting my head on it, I tried to calm my convulsing body down. After a while, all was still.

After Nicholas woke me up from my strange realization of Prissy being Rose's niece, we decided to find our parents and part ways until the ship docked. My parents, after much leaking tears and love-filled hugs, told me that a nice passenger on board had let us borrow their cabin until we reached New York. Sighing, I followed them back into my high society life.

Now, I was hyperventilating on the soft, warm bed that the large cabin contained. So much had happened to me in the past twenty-four hours, too much to recalculate. I wished to forget it, but I knew that was impossible. _Titanic _will forever haunt me.

Closing my eyes to get more sleep, I fell into a more peaceful unconsciousness, filled with dogs, steam baths, and French cuisine.

**April 16th, 1912**

"So, what do you want to do?"

Nicholas and I had been staring at the rising sun for an hour, thinking of what there was to do on this ship. "I don't know," I finally said. "There's nothing available, from what I can see."

Nick nodded, his sand-colored head bobbing up and down. "Why don't we just walk around the deck?"

"Sure." My hazel eyes were still glazed in shock, and would probably stay that way for a while.

As we started walking, I asked, "Why do you think I cared so much about Jack?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just, I risked my own life to find him; if it wasn't for me, all of my friends might still be here right now. But, I barely knew him. Why do you think I cared so much on finding him?"

Nick patted my back and replied, "You just thought that someone losing the person who set them free was much worse than what you were going through."

I slightly nodded, but did not respond.

After a few more moments of silence, I said, "It confuses me, why I cared. I feel as though I had a reason, yet I don't know of it. It makes my mind wander to a different time, a different place. A place where there's no suffering, and two people deeply in love are in their rightful home. Where the world is in peace and harmony with the nature that surrounds it. You do understand, right?"

Nick shoved his hands in his pocket but did not move his mouth. Instead, he slowly removed one hand from his trousers and held mine. Looking down at our intertwined fingers, a look of confusion spread on my face. Without realizing it, I smiled. Even though my life had fallen apart, maybe the pieces can be put back together again.

...

"Do you notice how the Earth rotates around the sun?" Nick and I had been craning our necks, looking up at the bright blue sky later that morning. The sun was directly above our heads, making our necks cramp up from exhaustion.

Nick squinted at the giant, yellow sphere. "Yes, and sometimes it's painful."

I laughed. I slowly brought down my head, cringing in how tight my muscles were. "It's amazing how the world can keep spinning around with all of this chaos going on. It's hard to believe it all hasn't stopped."

Nick nodded. "I like the fact you think good of the world. It really brought no harm in the beginning."

I shook my head. "I don't agree with you there. I feel as though the world is testing us everyday. You know, like a survival game. It's trying to see who are strong and who are weak."

Nick disagreed with me after my little explanation. "The world may be cruel, but look around you: it's amazing just the way it is." He spread his arms to the yellow sun, and the beautiful morning sky. A small group of birds, maybe seagulls, flew overhead; tiny icebergs, not even close to being the size that hit _Titanic_, bobbed in the ocean water.

Even with my logical, understanding mind, I didn't have the strength, or even the thoughts, that made me agree with Nick. "No." I firmly shook my head. My eyes stung, and a flicker of sadness reflected on them. "No, not anymore."

Nicholas looked at me, shocked. "You don't really mean that..." he said.

I returned his hurt glance with a pain-filled look of my own. "If life were that easy." I turned away, fighting against the sudden cold wind, tears stinging my cheeks for the hundredth time that week. When had everything gone wrong? When had life turned into a race for survival? And, most importantly, when had the world decided to go against me?

A person comes into your life to change you in some way, or to teach you something new. It can be life lessons to a fact of interest, depending on the subject. Either way, all the people I've met on this journey have changed me in some way. For some reason, I knew that I will be forever changed, never to be forgotten again. John taught me what it was like to love (hard to find and go through), Charles taught me the meaning of patience (unlike himself), and Naya taught me what a true friend really acted like (playfulness with a bit of seriousness). I guess philosophy was meant to be that way. Everyone who comes in your life can get very close to you, even in just a few days, or maybe even a few hours, like all my friends on the _Titanic_ had been.

Ever since this morning, my mind was completely absorbed by how life worked. It definitely never goes as planned, and something unexpected always tends to pop up, good or bad. It was never meant to be perfect or easy; we all make mistakes.

Children, who were young enough to not understand too well what had happened just a mere 24-hours ago, played with each other on the deck. I sat, slouched, my hands crinkling my cheeks, elbows on my knees, on an uncomfortable bench (not that my position was any better). Though everything was going quite miserably, boredom was probably just as bad as waiting. All my things were at the bottom of the ocean, and Lucy was too lazy to do anything entertaining.

Sighing, I straightened my back, which cracked, and looked at the horizon. The sun was setting and casting a beautiful shade of colors in the sky, giving the clouds an abnormal pink tint. Yet, with sadness and lost cutting a deep hole in my heart, the days of my life will still move on.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I didn't need to turn around to recognize that voice. "Hello, Rose."

The red-headed woman who impersonated a porcelain doll sat next to me, staring straight ahead. Her emerald eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder.

"I haven't seen you since we boarded." I tried not to look at her face, afraid it might burst into helpless, innocent tears, but it was hard not to when her piercing green eyes were placed on me.

"Yes, so we have," she said. No reaction was shown or her face; in fact, she was quite unreadable by the fact no emotion passed her pretty eyes.

"How have you been?" I asked, straightening up my back, which had begun to slouch again, and stretching a little bit.

She sighed, and her voice cracked as she replied, "Not so great."

My heart plummeted as she said those words. Jack. It was always about Jack! "I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, dumbfounded and lost in my thoughts. "I heard about… Jack."

This time she began to show too much emotion, her eyes watering and dripping to the ground into the form of large tears. She buried her face in her hands in an attempt to calm herself down. She was clearly mourning.

"Come, Josephine, in my flying machine, and it's up she goes! Up she goes…" I soothingly sang as I put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She took her head out of her hands, sniffed, and said, "Where have you heard that song?"

I smiled at her. Her eyes sparkled from deep memories, and I wanted to laugh at her reaction; she was shaken by the tune. "It's a long ago lullaby my mother sang to me every night. It reminds me of a man and a woman on a ship, spreading out their arms as they supposedly 'fly' into the sunset; but, of course, the movement of the ship only gave that illusion."

Rose's eyes lit up, and her previous state was long forgotten. "How did you-"

"Know?" I finished for her. "It's a strange, abnormal power I have. It makes me special." I chose to keep most of the details under lock and key. I didn't tell anyone the visions (also known as feelings) I saw of Jack and Rose together previously; yes, the flying part was a fraction of it, but the others were too disturbing and inappropriate to repeat. Basically, this whole time I knew something no one else didn't: not even you, reader.

Rose just gave me a confused look and shook her head. "It was only meant for me and Jack…"

Seeing the anger in her eyes, I was alarmed. "I-I'm sorry, again. I c-couldn't control it. It was out of my hands. I would tell you everything, but you would get even more disappointed if I told you."

She gave a stubborn, knowing glare. "So you saw _that_, now, did you? Every single time I was with Jack you saw _all_ of it?" Her cheeks began to flush from embarrassment and anger.

I tried to hold a giggle. "Again, I am sorry. But there's no need to get upset. I understand."

Rose, trying to get off the topic, said, "And what about you? How have you been?"

The giddiness I had before began to fade. "A-Awful." I looked away from Rose's gaze. I couldn't bare see her pity me.

"What happened with you?" she sadly asked.

"I lost my boyfriend, ex-fiancé, and best friend," I proclaimed, showing my pride and dignity for them all. Naya was not a replacement of Jenny, I just considered her a best friend because of the short, close bond we had together, and the dreams we had of America.

Rose looked away and nodded her head. "Loss, though it may be hard, makes us stronger every day. It's what makes a base for the years to come."

...

"_Danny, we'll always be friends." _

"_I promise."_

"_She's not going to like America, even if we are boarding the Ship of Dreams: _Titanic_!…"_

"_Thought you'd want to take a dive, American…"_

"_Nicholas, do you believe _Titanic_ could sink?"_

"_Fine, be that way. Why not think positively?"_

"_That woman… Rose. Does she look… depressed to you?"_

"_This is absurd. I'm only sixteen."_

"_Just because they're poor, doesn't mean they should be treated less than me or you."_

"_Seeing your face, deep with sorrow and guilt, made me think of what I've done." _

"_Jack Dawson loves me!" _

"_What's happening?" _

"_The ship! It's sinking!" _

"_Oh, John, I wish you were here with me..."_

"_Never let go…"_

My eyes shot open, moonlight reflecting off my hazel irises. Blinking, I found myself sprawled out on the comfortable bunk, heaving as memories overflowed my mind. This time I really cried, not just over the past, but what the future held for me with everyone I cared about gone. John, Naya, and Charles made up the big portion, not including my parents, Nick, or Jenny. It all made sense now… I searched for Jack thinking that saving him was the only chance of there ever being a happy ending. I didn't think of the possibilities, such as the deaths of friends I made over the voyage. I remember how my mind reacted when John told me he loved me… I thought of an ocean full of possibilities.

But, that was gone. Wasted, flushed down the drain, all because I wanted my happily ever after with more than just me involved. Because of the imperfection of the world, there's no such thing as "happily ever afters." No matter how hard, or how determined, you are. It just never happens.

I rolled on to my stomach and stared at the moon, its light reflecting off my irritated, wet eyes. "Come back to me…" I whined. "Please, come back…"

As though his spirit could hear me, I felt a pair of arms go around my waist, and a soft whisper in my ear, barely audible. Before falling into a deep sleep, I whispered, "I love you, too."

**April 17, 1912**

It's true that nobody knows what real sadness is until something in their life goes wrong. I cry anytime I think of all that had happened; my mind was slowly wearing off the shock that all of it had happened in two hours or more. I suddenly became more aware that no matter what I do, or how hard I plead, John and the others were gone.

_Gone._

The whole logic of that word left my heart in pieces. It just made me realize, after thinking of all the good times we shared together, that their smiling faces I will never see again. All that had happened was just a memory now, something that will never fade.

The absolute horror of it was what really shocked me. Picturing all those people, dead, frozen, or maybe even drowned, caused a shiver to go down my spine. I could just picture Naya and her last moments, sputtering and shaking, reliving her life in her mind. It was all too awful.

And Charles and John, as well. They were left to die in the water, but no one came back. I didn't know their real cause of death. For all I know, they could've been-

I pushed these creeping thoughts out of my mind, along with their dead bodies, frozen and blue, lifeless and staring. Thinking these thoughts would always bring tears to my eyes.

I knew that I would be crying a lot until the whole shock and experience of tragedy and disaster wore off, not saying that it will leave me. Those guilty, confused, angry emotions I had felt when everyone was gone will always be with me.

_Always._

For the past two days, all I felt was sadness, as though the world had taken away and dumped my prized possessions on a stranded island to never be found or seen again. My once bright, lively personality had faded, but it was still there if you looked deep down. It would take a very special person to bring the life that is submerged so deep in me to be brought to the surface.

Since the disaster, I was a completely different person. I was reborn into a stronger, more self-conscious human being that would forever be haunted, unless I chose to forget.

_Stop it. _A voice lodged in the back of my brain would try to snap me out of my glum feelings. _You are not _completely _changed. You are just… different._

The voice was true. I did change a little bit, but not completely. I will act a little differently now than I did before. But I will always be Danielle.

I wiped my eyes and looked out the porthole. The sun was rising in the distance, and I couldn't help but say to the wonderful shades and tints of orange and red, "It is East, and Juliet is the sun."

Was Juliet really the sun, as Romeo said she was? The fact, and the hard truth, was that Romeo was not real; but people tried to believe he was. They want to be swept off their feet, to feel truly loved, and to ride off in the sunset where they will forever live happily ever after. But what do I think of Happily Ever Afters? That they are not real, and they never exist for anyone.

Then I thought of Rose. If Jack was her destiny and faith, then how come he perished in just a few days? Was he just there to save her, assure her, then to leave her behind in this world?

The good die young, that's the saying. Though I didn't know him that well, I still felt like his life could be saved. And if it was saved, I just helped two people find their happily ever after. I didn't get the point that all things happened for a reason cross my mind until it slapped me right in the face.

Rose really was a sweet woman, who deserved someone she cared about. Could she find it ever again? I started to worry for her life, hoping it wouldn't end up like that one night when the voyage begun.

Then it dawned on me. How I shouldn't mope for loss, or worry for Rose's life. The reason I had tried to save Jack was not just because of Rose, but because of how much he learned that could help me, not that all the reasons I thought of before weren't true.

"_Promise me t-that you'll survive… that you will n-never give up… No m-matter what happens… no matter how h-hopeless… Promise me now, Rose, and n-never let go of that promise."_

"_I promise."_

"_Never let go…"_

Repeating Jack's words, I found their meanings as quickly as snapping my fingers. It was an oath, a promise, to live on, as if he knew he was going to die. (Which he did.) Maybe I was meant to receive this forbidden, tragic love story to learn something as well:

Everything happens for a reason. People who have left you don't want you to pity them, or ruin your own life because they couldn't accomplish their dreams or goals. They want to see you live on, happy and understanding, why everything had to be this way, and to live life as if it was their own. Life was never supposed to be easy; people try to make it that way. For the people who try, they never succeed, since nothing is to be perfect either.

Groping my mind with these thoughts, I tried to understand why everything had to happen the way it was. Maybe it was because I was too weak of a person, and couldn't accept life for what it was. But, since I was able to talk and understand the English language, my mother always told me that life doesn't always go as planned. So, if I understand how life worked, why did I have to see it change in front of me so drastically and in the blink of an eye?

_I learned something important, though. Something I haven't realized before. _

That life was a gift, and you shouldn't waste it. I understood that it was a road that goes from smooth to bumpy, and something that cannot be planned. I've learned even more to accept what life truly was: a single, once-in-a-lifetime present, something to be cherished and remembered for all the little and big things you made it into.

I remembered their smiling faces: John's, Charles', and Naya's. They were true friends who cared for me, but even though they're gone, they're still with me: in memories, in laughter, and in my heart.

_I will never forget. _

And that's as true as can be. How can I ever forget? Jack and Rose, their story, all the friends I had made over this voyage? It sounds almost impossible, unless I choose to forget. But, even if I choose not to remember, it will still always be there, stored in my mind.

I looked at the sun, rising to its full potential and brilliance, as a new day begun.

_Thank you, Jack._

The sun made the ocean sparkle a bright blue, casting its warm light on my face. The waves lapped gently at the _Carpathia_, as though promising it that there was no harm; no more harm; nothing, ever again, that will kill a ship like it did to the _Titanic_, along with hundreds of innocent people.

Even though I've learned my lesson, I still felt sadness gripping at me that won't let go. I thanked Jack for making me see, for I had been so blind before. But now I didn't have the heart to let go like Rose so easily had; the pain was too much. I just couldn't let go.

Nick came up to me and put one hand on the rail, the other over my right. I didn't bother to look. He knew what I had suffered, what my thoughts were, how I had changed, but only a little.

"You still seem glum today," he pointed out the obvious.

"I'm just confused." I didn't feel like talking at the moment.

"Aren't we all?"

"You're not making me feel better."

"Do you want me to go away?"

His hand left mine, and guilt swept over me. I didn't have the guts to say anything, in fear that either one might be the wrong answer. I hesitated, was about to say something, but closed my mouth. He didn't reply, and stared at the sky instead.

"You're my only friend now," I whispered. Then I was in his arms again, a tight hug, letting out all the tears and emotions I had kept in all these hours. The other tears were pointless, but these ones had a real meaning, and that was to help me vent.

He patted my back and was speechless. It was the first time I actually realized how significant the sandy-colored, green-eyed boy was in my life. He was all I had left from the voyage, to remember them all by. _Jack, Rose, Charles, John, and Naya… _I repeated their names in my head.

"I'm so confused," I sniffled into his warm shirt. I tried to calm myself down, but it was useless; I bottled up too many emotions, and the cap just exploded.

"It will all come clear soon, Danielle. It will all come clear soon."

_It will all be over soon… _This made me cry harder. What the victims of the _Titanic_ said during their final moments were unbearable. They all wished it was over soon, but most of it was still yet to come.

I tried to wash away those memories with my tears.


	12. New York

**Chapter 11**

**New York**

**April 18, 1912**

It was raining when we reached New York, sometime in the evening. I ran on wobbly legs to catch a glimpse of land and the Statue of Liberty. There was something intriguing, inspiring, about the statue that made me smile.

The rain pattered gently on my head and soaked my hair, making it even frizzier and flatter. It seeped into my clothes and stuck to my skin. Goosebumps formed and I shivered. It reminded me of when Nick pulled me into the pond. But I still didn't take my hazel eyes off of the statue; I was too pleased to see land, to be free.

"Jack told me we'd go to the Santa Monica Pier and ride horses into the sunset, along with many other things. Did you hear him say that to me?"

I nodded and looked at Rose, who was also soaked, her emerald eyes staring at the statue as well, possibly searching for an answer. I could still tell that she was heartbroken and damaged by Jack's death by the way it reflected off her eyes. "He said he would teach you to ride a horse like a man."

"And chew tobacco like a man."

"_And spit like a man_," I said in a western accent. We both smiled, but refused to laugh; the good memories that took place on the _Titanic_ warmed our hearts.

"I remember seeing you at the steerage party, but it could've just been my imagination. I had too much beer, you see." She smiled, and her eyes glowed at how much fun it was to let go and experience new things.

"Yes, I was there, with my ex-fiancé, Charles. He… perished that night." I looked away from her eyes.

She nodded in understanding. "It's hard to lose, but it makes you stronger. We all learn that the hard way. Remember?"

Silence filled the air after Rose said her wise words about life again, and her gaze left me and went back to the Statue of Liberty.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked her, still not directing my gaze at her.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just you now," I said. "So, what are you going to do?"

Rose didn't respond for a few minutes. Her mind must've been filled with many thoughts and ideas, and she was probably trying to choose the one she wanted to do the most.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I promised I was going to get off the ship with him." She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and refused to make eye contact with anybody, even with my calm, hazel eyes. She looked at the floor and tried to hold in her own tears.

"It's okay," I told her. "I understand, too."

After a few silenced tears escaped her watering eyes, I said, "You're young, and so was he. If he lived, you would've had a long, happy life together. But since he's not, you have to go with it. He doesn't want you to mourn, Rose. Not over him. Live is all you really can do."

She opened her mouth to say something, but a steward came up to them with a black umbrella and a clipboard, and said, "Your names, please?"

"Danielle Fitz," I told him, saying it a little loudly over the pounding rain.

After scribbling my name down, he looked at Rose and said, "And you, miss?"

Rose looked at me, and I looked back. It was hard to tell what she was thinking of.

"Dawson," she finally replied, still looking at me. "Rose Dawson."

The steward nodded, wrote it down, and left. I gave Rose a look of shocked bewilderment. "What did you do that for?" I had to ask.

"I loved… _love_… him," she replied. "It's the only thing I'll remember him by."

"His last name?"

"And everything he's done and given me." She winked, and we both smiled. "I'm a new woman, Danielle. I'm no longer one of them. I'm one of the world."

"That's sweet," I said. "Really sweet. If he was here right now, he'd be happy."

"Thank you, D-"

She stopped, closed her mouth, and her face crinkled up in confusion. She was moving her hand around in her pocket, and what she pulled out made us both gasp.

It was a beautiful, sapphire-blue diamond in the shape of a heart, surrounded by smaller, white diamonds on a chain. "The Heart of the Ocean," Rose gasped. "But I thought-"

"Keep it," I said. "It's another thing to remember him by. Jack, I mean. Not Cal."

She nodded her head, and smiled as she put the necklace in her palm and felt it in her hand. "I'll never forget his touch," she said, with a slight laugh. "Every second I spent with him made my heart pound, and adrenaline rush."

"Then make sure you remember him that way."

Rose didn't seem to hear me, she was so mesmerized by the diamond. "Goodbye, Rose," I whispered, and I slipped away silently; she didn't seem to notice.

Rose clasped the necklace in her hands, closed her eyes, and said, "I'll never let go, Jack."

...

Reporters, people with cameras and notepads, swarmed around the dock as passengers began to leave the ship. They shot questions at them, hoping they would get answers, but the survivors tended to push them out of their way and continue on. My father, mother, and I made our way through the crowd, and I got to hear most of the reporters funny, bland accents. These were purebred Americans.

Nick with his family were behind us. He caught up with me, held my hand, and helped me through the crowd, yelling back retorts such as "Leave us alone!" and "Back off!"

He's been so sweet to me since the sinking, it almost made me think of the reason why. He was never so nice to me before; he was the one who pulled me into a cold pond when I didn't want to go for a dive.

Once we made it out of the crowd, we all kept walking until we reached the park. One time I tripped, but Nick stopped me by putting his arms around my waist and hoisting me up. "You just need to get rid of your sea legs," he joked, and then he had smiled.

I sat down on a bench I saw, Nick next to me, the parents still standing. "What do we do now?" my mother said. Lucy was sniffing around the new land, stopping every couple of inches to try and find some familiarity to it.

We all stayed silent. There was nothing we can think of to do. We had no belongings, no money. All we had was the clothes on our backs.

"I heard the Madison Hotel downtown is taking survivors in for free," Nick said. The way we were survivors sent a shiver down my body, which caused Nick to put his coat around me. I blushed a deep crimson.

The parents looked at each other, but didn't say a word. "That's our only choice," Mrs. Anderson finally said. So Nick and I got up and followed the parents as we made our way through the unfamiliar city.

"What do you think of New York so far?" Nick asked me, his eyes wandering to the scene. I looked around, too.

"Strange," was all I said. There was no other word to describe it.

"On what I've studied, Broadway is around here somewhere. How about we go catch a show sometime?"

I nodded. "That sounds great." I finally began to feel homesick again, for Jenny, Southampton, and home. Everything that happened during this whole journey was forced and rushed on me so fast, I didn't know what to believe. _Was I really in love? Did he ever really care for me? Was she really my best friend?…_

"What are we going to do?" Mother complained. "How will we earn the money to get the kids going to school again? How can we afford that _and _a new place?"

"Calm down, my dear," Father said. "Luckily, I sent a large portion of money to a bank in New York City. The Andersons did so, too. We can send the kids to school, but we'll have to save up for a place."

I couldn't believe my father trusted ships and people so much to send a whole stack of dollars to America without knowing who was taking it or what might happen. I didn't say a word, though. I felt very shy in this new city, and I barely had the courage to speak. I imagined how school was going to be.

"You'll be fine," Nick reassured me. "The Americans are a kind, generous lot."

I tried to think positively, but it didn't work. My mind could no longer trust people.

"Ah, perfect," Father said as we stepped into our hotel room. It was a little small, with two beds, a dresser, wardrobe, and vanity. The bathroom was posh with a sink and a bathtub. All was well in this room. There was nothing to unpack, nothing to put down or carry, and a awkward silence filled the air as the Fitz family stood and stared at each other.

"The best thing to do now, Sarah," my father said to Mother, "is go enroll the kids in a school. We can do the shopping later."

Mother just nodded her head, and Father then turned to me. "You and Nick, you two can explore the city if you want. Just don't get lost."

I had no words to say.

...

"Have you heard how these people talk?" Nick said as we roamed the streets of New York. "It's as though someone has ripped out their tonsils or something."

"Tonsils don't affect how you talk," I told him. He just rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever, but something's been ripped out of their throats. That's what they sound like."

We had stopped and looked through stores, and avoided nasty merchants who wouldn't leave us alone unless we bought something. One time, a man stopped us on the street and tried to sell me some perfume, (he even sprayed it on me, causing me to sneeze), but Nick took a firm hold of my shoulders and pulled me away, saying how we had no money.

Oh, how much we wanted to yell in people's faces that we just survived a terrible tragedy and to just leave us alone. It was as though the reporters could sniff out our salt water-smelling clothing, and then raid us with questions. The stores weren't any better. No matter how many times we told a clerk we were just looking and had no money, the more persistent they got. We ended up just roaming the streets and parks, avoiding all stores.

"You never said the Americans were so pushy," I said, after remembering the previous events.

"I just go with what people tell me."

"I wouldn't trust them."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't trust people."

And we ended our conversation with that.

...

"I don't want to go," I firmly stated, as Father and Mother told me of the school they just signed me and Nick up for. They said we started this week, on Monday, which was in three days. I knew that the reason was because of fear.

Father gave me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "You'll do fine," he said. "You've always been good with adjusting to change."

With that, my parents left to do some shopping. They asked me earlier if I wanted to come, but I politely declined, saying that I was still in shock and deeply fatigued. Instead, when both mine and Nick's parents were gone, I crossed the hall to his hotel room and shakily knocked on the door.

He answered, and a look of concern crossed his face. "What is it?" he asked.

Ever since the sinking, we became very close, a little too close, some would say. I began to tell him how I felt, what was on my mind, if he would listen or not. This time, I was also planning for complete honesty.

"I'm scared," I whispered. It was all I really could say. I was feeling afraid.

He led me into the room and closed the door behind him. He took my elbow and pulled me to the couch, plopping me down and asking me questions. The main question was, "Why?"

"Everything's happening so… so fast. Just a couple weeks ago we met; just a week ago we boarded the ship; just a few days ago it sank; and just today we got off the rescue ship. Now we're starting school on Monday, and I feel completely and utterly afraid a-and rushed into things."

Nick nodded his head. "It's a normal feeling. Everyone feels afraid. But you can't live your life in fear, Danielle. Don't let it control you."

He ordered room service to bring a couple cups of tea, and my mind whirled. I thought of how I changed. How I was no longer the social, careless Danielle Fitz. I cared more now, more than anything of what people would think of me: my personality, my accent, my experiences. I felt so annoyed to talk, and barely did; I tried to dodge Nick's many questions of my opinions of New York and life.

I never felt so alone. I used to have Jenny by I side, a best friend for many years, who I could definitely trust. Then there came Nick, John, Charles, and Naya, who even though they were true friends, I could never let them in on a deep secret.

I was alone.

That night, I dreamed. I dreamed of a world full of peace, of no death or sorrow. I dreamed a dream that was full of love and friendship, of forever living. I never thought the world could be so swell. Then I woke up, and I felt like Fantine from Les Miserables_. _

It was all just a dream…

Saturday sped by fast, with shopping and little speaking, but I dreaded when Sunday came. My parents had already bought me my school supplies, and some new clothes I could wear. (With my opinion, of course.) I sat through Sunday by staring out the window at the endless mass of buildings, and the ocean far ahead, the sun being drowned by it.

I was still alone.

I prayed that day that I would find friends. Friends that will care about me, not judge me or try to change me. Most of all, friends that will never leave me. I wished the day had never passed as I got into bed mindlessly and stared at the ceiling.

I was nothing.

I was still mourning.

The school bells rang, and my muscles tightened. I wore a simple lavender dress with part of my hair braided and pulled back. I had picked a white pansy and had added it to my hairstyle. I almost tripped over my white leather shoes. I was terrified to make a humiliation out of myself.

A strong, reassuring hand landed on my shoulder and helped me get back on balance. Nick was there with me, to attend the school and guide me throughout the day, of course. I didn't know what I could do without him.

A small group of boys and girls eyed us suspiciously, then walked up to us cautiously. "You must be the new kids we were aware of on Friday."

"Yes," Nick said, the American group's eyes widening at his "weird" accent. "We sailed here from England."

"Oh, England! That explains your accent," a peppy girl with short, curly blond hair gasped. "It's cool." And she smiled.

"Thank you," Nick replied, his face flushing red. "I am Nicholas Anderson." He gave her his hand to shake.

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, blushing as well. "I-I'm Elizabeth Smith." And she shook his hand lightly.

One of boys eyed me, and I uncomfortably kept looking away. I wished I was a bug, or a crumb, whatever it took for him not to notice me.

"Who is this?" he finally said, gesturing to me with his chin, since his hands were in his pockets.

"Oh, you must mean Danielle," Nick said. "She's very… shy… That is, she was never like this until, well, a few days ago."

Everyone looked alarmed and sorry for me. "Danielle?" Elizabeth repeated, tasting it. "That's a pretty name."

I dropped my head and looked at the floor, fidgeting. I didn't say anything. I didn't trust this girl.

When the school bell rang again, everyone separated and started heading into the school, except for his Elizabeth, who motioned with her hand that she wanted to say something privately to Nick.

But I didn't leave his side. I tried not to listen, but I knew it was about me. Anger built inside me.

"What has happened to that poor girl?" she asked.

"A dark, tragic event has happened, Elizabeth," he explained. "You have heard of the _Titanic_, yes?"

"Oh!" Her hand flew to her mouth and she needed no more explaining.

"Settle down, class," Mrs. Burns, our homeroom teacher, demanded. She sat down at her desk and shuffled with some papers, waiting for us to quiet down. Even worse, Nick and I had to stand in the back of the room, waiting for us to get an assigned seat.

Mrs. Burns, with her gray hair pulled tight in a bun, looked at us through her spectacles, and a warm smile spread on her face. "Look who we have here!"

Scared by the woman's friendliness, I clung to Nick's shoulder so hard, my knuckles whitened. My eyes widened as everyone turned around to look at us.

I was alone.

_No, I have Nick_.

I am a coward.

_No, you have just changed._

I have changed.

_Yes. You have._

"Please, introduce yourselves."

My mouth turned dry. Speak. I will not speak. That was the one thing I refused to do. I looked down at the floor and tried to cover my face with my hair.

"I am Nicholas Anderson, from Southampton, England, Mrs. Burns." All the girls seemed to giggle fondly at his accent.

"Ah, that explains your foreign tongue," the teacher said, nodding her head, the smile still plastered on her face. "And you, young lady?"

My eyes widened, my pupils dilated. I shook my head and refused to say a word. Nick looked at me, worry embedded in his eyes. I swear that they said, "This isn't like you."

Mrs. Burns raised an eyebrow, and looked at me, waiting for a reply. I just stood their, frozen, rigid. I wanted to scream and dash out of the room. Instead, tears filled my eyes and I started to cry. I started to see those terrifying images again, of dead people. I started to think of John, hysterically looking for me, but being taken away by the waves. I wasn't ready for this.

I knew what the people in the class were thinking. Some had worried, confused faces, whiles others had humored, curious faces. I tried to calm myself, but I was beat. I was way too overwhelmed.

Mrs. Burns, shocked, walked fast and was soon in front of me. She put her hands on my shoulders and told me to breathe. Then she asked what was wrong.

"I'm reliving it, that moment," I whispered. Elizabeth, who was in the class, perked up her ears and looked stunned that I had finally spoken. "I have no one anymore."

And I just cried harder. I didn't speak again. Mrs. Burns looked at Nicholas for an answer, and he whispered the story in her ear. Once the kids near the back heard snippets of it, it started to pass around, and soon everyone, even the humored kids, had stopped laughing, stopped showing emotion. All was quiet.

"Oh, my dear," she said, tears in her own eyes. "I cannot think of how this must feel."

"He's gone," I whispered. For all I knew by the look on her face, Nick said nothing about John. "They're all gone."

...

At lunch that day, Nick and I were swarmed. People sat with us, asked us questions, and tried to avoid my quiet self. They dodged me as best as I could, but once Nick got boring, it was only me.

"Are you okay, Danielle?" Elizabeth asked, pushing through the crowd. I solemnly nodded my head.

Then, unexpectedly, she threw her arms around me. "I'm so sorry! I knew of it already, but I didn't know how much it had affected you."

I didn't move. I didn't blink. All I did was stare and process her words. I opened my mouth, to say something, and my voice cracked. I cleared it and started again. "I made three friends on that ship. But they're gone. One was my boyfriend, one was my ex-fiancé, and another was a stubborn girl I loved as a friend. It was all my fault. She died in my arms."

Elizabeth started crying, and everyone stood still, their ears perked up. I fidgeted to get into a more comfortable position, but nothing worked. Their eyes were still on me.

"I saw dead people," I said, trying to make conversation. When did I start talking about dead people so much? I felt like I was going hysterically insane, all this strange talk and weird emotions and-

Elizabeth shook her head. "Unbelievable."

...

Nick and I were walking home. I was looking all around me, at the new sights and sounds. I was strangely fascinated by New York.

"Your first day didn't go so well," he said.

I shook my head.

"When did you stop talking?"

"Since I changed," I replied.

"You haven't changed. You've just been affected a little. Once the shock wears off, you'll be fine."

I shook my head again. "No."

"What do you mean, no? This has to be only temporary. What has gotten into you?"

"Jack. It all started with those visions, those feelings, those knowings and such. I've changed. Maybe for the better, maybe not."

Nick didn't say another word the whole walk home.

The next day, I wasn't as scared as before. I still dreaded school, but not to such a large extent. I prayed I wouldn't cry, for I was overcome with emotion that day.

Elizabeth greeted me and Nick when we reached the school building, and I managed to say hello.

The day passed without any problems. I answered people's questions, but only in a few words. I refused to say more about myself, in fear that they would throw away my privacy. I didn't trust them.

"Danielle?" Elizabeth had said at lunch.

I looked up into her blue eyes.

"What were you like before?"

I blinked. What was she saying?

"I mean, what were you like before your life had changed right in front of your eyes?"

I didn't answer for a few minutes. I tried to create an answer in my mind. "Lively," I firmly said. "Very lively."

"Oh," was all she said.

...

I had another dream that night. This time, it was just me and John, in a meadow. He would pick me a flower, a red rose, and hand it to me. Then, the thorn pricked my finger and a drop of blood fell to the ground. The ground beneath me rippled, and all of a sudden the meadow was an ocean. I saw Jack, dead, along with Charles, John, and Naya.

_Don't leave me. _

A tear escaped my imaginary self. I had gathered enough courage to cry and weep. I cried for those who had died, for the lifeless friends in front of me, and for all that had happen. The rose that had pricked my finger floated, lonely, in the water; the drop of blood that had stained the meadow grass spread into a large, red puddle.

I was alone.

I was a coward.

I had changed.

That was all that had happened. I had changed.


	13. Beyond the Ocean

***Sniffle* The last chapter! **

**Chapter 12**

**Beyond the Ocean**

**May 15, 1912**

A month had passed, and I was still the quiet, demure Danielle no one was used to. I had tried to bundle up my old life and pack it into the back of my head, but it always came back to haunt me. I still avoided people's gazes, their questions. I still didn't have the courage to answer them honestly, in fear of being betrayed.

My life began to tumble, and I knew why Rose wanted to jump off that ship: to escape. That was all she wanted. She wanted to escape.

My parents began to worry, and I was soon seeing a psychiatrist, who I trusted less than my schoolmates. He asked me questions, like how I felt, what I was thinking, things I would tell Nick at random.

"Sad," I would tell him every time. "Alone. Empty."

He would nod and encourage me to keep speaking. But I wouldn't let another single word escape my mouth. When I was in a better mood, I would say, "Changed." He would eventually just sigh, and ask, "What are you thinking of?"

"Memories," I answered. "Old, sweet memories."

I would never tell him anymore than that. My parents had to explain him of the disaster. That's when he knew what to do. He would sit next to me, and tell me to clear my mind, and to think of what had happened, to tell him what I saw. It wasn't until a few times later that I began to trust him a little more. I followed his instructions, accepted the method. I told him of the dead people, of my love, of my friends. Eventually he just stopped asking.

He told my parents I was suffering the highest degree of mourning, or depression. He said I would have to take medicine to "feel better." But when he put a large, white pill in front of me, I only said "No" and pushed it away.

The days became warmer as mid May came around. Flowers began to bloom, and each day came closer to summer. I was ecstatic to think of no more school. It meant no more staring, pointing, or whispering behind my back. It meant no more answering people's stupid questions, or having to dodge rude ones.

Mrs. Burns had planned a school field trip to the beach, she announced one day. She said that it would be a relaxing day, where we would all picnic and swim in the water if we wanted to, as long as we brought swimming suits. Otherwise, it was our faults if we got wet in our school clothing, and no one was going in nude.

Unlike most kids, my body tensed. My eyes widened, and soon I was trembling. Elizabeth saw my reaction, took my hand, and raised her free hand to get Mrs. Burns' attention. I wanted to tell her to stop, but could care less as the teacher ran up to me and told me to calm down. She said I didn't have to go near the ocean, I could just climb the cliffs instead. I just sniffed and nodded.

A few days passed, and soon we were all walking through New York, this large pack, chatting loudly and stopping by store windows as we made our way to the beach. I was walking with Nick and Elizabeth, who were talking and laughing without paying much attention to me. I would look around at my surroundings, but not say a word. There was nothing to say, anyway.

Soon, a salty smell filled my nose, a smell way too familiar. All the students noticed, too, and they began running as the ocean appeared in the background. I walked slowly behind, with Mrs. Burns, who did her best to reassure me that it will all be okay. She then held on to my arm and led me to the rest of the kids, who started to splash in the salty water or set out picnic blankets. My eyes, however, weren't fixed on their activities: they were fixed on the ocean, and the sun above it.

I've always loved the ocean, even though it had taken some of the best people in my life's lives. I was still marveled by it, curious about it, and so I continued staring at it, long after Mrs. Burns had left me standing on the sand.

"I knew the old Danielle was still in there somewhere."

Nick smiled as he came to stand next to me. The smile that was on my face disappeared, and I looked down at my knees. "The old Danielle is gone, Nick. She died with the _Titanic_."

I heard soft footsteps behind me, and knew it was Elizabeth, but I didn't turn to look.

"No, she didn't. She's still in there somewhere, you just need to find her and release her."

"No," I insisted. "She's gone. Dead. She left just like the _Titanic_ did, along with the lives of John, Charles, Naya, and Jack. She's gone, Nick. There's nothing we can do."

"I don't believe that," he said. "I know she's not gone."

I dabbed at a tear that rolled down my cheek. I hadn't cried since the first day of school a month ago. It was my first tear in a while.

"Look out there, Danielle," Nick instructed. "What do you see?"

"The sun," I replied. "A blue ocean."

"And?"

"A lost girl, who is trying to find her way home, but she can't find who she is either."

"Now look even closer."

I squinted into the sun and for a second; I thought I was dreaming. I swear I could hear laughing, ocean waves lapping at a ship, and see Jack and Rose reflecting in the sun.

"I see memories," I whispered. "All which had made me what I have become."

"No, you've misunderstood, Danielle. Jack wasn't meant to change you, he was just there to teach you something. Remember what he told his lover, Rose? To never let go, no matter how hopeless? To survive and live on? He wasn't only directing that to her, Danielle. He was directing it also to you. The event had shaken everyone, but it had shaken you to the core. You took everything seriously and eventually just quieted down, averted your eyes from the beautiful world, and mourned over those who didn't want to be pitied in the first place."

My mind tried to process his words, but it couldn't understand. Was this all a dream?

"Close your eyes, Danielle," Nick whispered in my ear. "Now what do you _really_ see?"

I shut my hazel eyes and escaped the world. I saw me, along with Charles, John, Naya, and Nick, all having the time of their life on the Ship of Dreams. Then, we got a picture taken of ourselves, and laughed even harder. The scene shifted to all of us at the beach in the middle of no where. Everyone was laughing, splashing, and swimming on their backs in the water, except for me. I was on the top of the cliff, which was quite high up, looking down at them. "Jump, Danielle!" John called. His voice seemed dreamy and distant. Soon everyone was joining in, chanting that I should jump. I smiled, bent down, and dived off the cliff.

The water I fell in was smooth and strangely soft; I barely had to kick to the surface, I was so light. When I surfaced, I looked at the setting sun, which was spreading beautiful colors of red, orange, pink, and purple across the sky and blue water.

"'It is the East, and Juliet is the sun'," John's eccentric voice whispered in my ear. I drifted off, lazily, on to my back, and swam around, staring at the colorful sky, hearing the laughter and shrieks of my friends.

Jack and Rose popped into my mind, along with Prissy, who was holding Rose's hand and jumping up and down excitedly. They were waving, not only at me, but at everyone from the sandy shore. Jack and Prissy gently pushed Rose aside, and then they beckoned for Charles, John, and Naya to follow. They all began to swim and walk out of the water, waving their goodbyes as they did so. Then they were with Jack and Prissy, engulfed in a bright golden light, waving at me. Rose joined me and Nick, and we were all waving back to them as we floated in the water. As soon as they had come, they had disappeared.

They had went to a whole different world beyond the ocean.

When I had opened my eyes, tears were slowly rolling down my cheeks. Sniffling, I reached into my pocket and smiled up at Nick; Elizabeth was next to him, staring, bewildered, at me. I rummaged a little more into my pocket, and my finger touched a sharp corner, and I felt the smooth, laminated sensation of a photograph.

I pulled it out and held it in front of me. There I was, with all of my friends, spotted with water stains, that fun time out on the deck of the _Titanic_. Sighing, I smiled at the memory. A truly perfect remembrance of all the friends I had made and lost.

I looked up at Nick, who was also smiling and nodding his head. "It's time to let go," he said. I nodded my head, too.

The wind picked up a little, as though it knew of my plan, and I let go of the photograph, watching it dance in the wind, playfully flying in the breeze.

I watched it flutter, farther away and closer to the waves, until it was only a black silhouette in the sun. I then watched it fall down, down, until it gently touched the water and floated; at that very spot, it sank and never reappeared.

I noticed that more tears were running down my cheeks than ever before. I sniffed and laughed. "I let go," I said to Nick, who was smiling and staring at the spot the photo had sank. "After I promised I wouldn't."

He laughed, one that was of pure goodness and heart. It was the first time I noticed how happy that laugh made me feel.

"So you're okay now?"

I smiled. "More than okay. So fine, in fact, you won't mind if I do this!" I tackled him, and we landed on the soft sand, sprawled on the ground, laughing. "That's the Danielle I know." I threw sand at his face, quickly got up, and started running.

He chased me down the cliffs and to the ocean, where I started wading into it without a care. My dress stuck to my legs, but I didn't notice. I had abandoned my shoes back on shore when I took them off after reaching the beach. I sloshed through the cool water, splashing it as Nick got closer. It turned into our own little splashing war, and we were soon called back to shore by Mrs. Burns, who was completely dumbstruck at my sudden change in personality.

Nick took my hand and led me back up the cliffs. I was smiling like a fool, and I suddenly remembered how I was the girl who had dreamed of future events and other people's business, was forced into an arrange marriage at sixteen, fell in love with some other man, then survived a tragedy that would have killed her if her mind didn't grasp that she had only learned, not changed.

The visions were gone, and so was Jack, Prissy, and the others. But Nick was here, with me this very moment, helping me since the beginning. I had quite the experience. For one thing, I predicted a ship was going to sink, and two innocent people were going to die, so I wasn't clueless; I also knew that nothing could be done to change what has all ready been changed. I accepted the world, for one thing, knew that life wasn't planned, and how it was a gift, too. I learned that people didn't want to be pitied, no matter how much I missed them. They wanted me to let go and be set free, to live as though I was living their lives.

"Stand here," Nick said, pointing to a spot on the rock ground. I did as he told me, and soon his hands were on my hips, and I was blushing very harshly.

He then lifted my arms, and as the wind picked up, I felt like I was flying over the ocean. I laughed and I smiled. I closed my eyes and breathed in the salty air.

"When you were going through that point of shock, Danielle, you told me of Jack and Rose's flying experience," he said. I looked at him with confusion; he had moved away from me and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You might not remember."

I looked back at the sun and the ocean. "No, I don't. But I trust you, Nick, so I'm not surprised you don't know."

He smiled and I smiled back at him, his sand-colored hair getting messed up by the wind, his green eyes glowing.

I closed my eyes again and felt the wind on my face. Maybe it was too early for me to get involved in another relationship, but Nick wouldn't be that bad. I then thought of Charles, stubborn, with his arms crossed over his chest, in an almost pout-like slouch. I thought of Naya, with her bright red curls and strange, light-brown eyes, blabbing on and on, her bubbly personality never going to die out. I thought of John, his hands in his pockets, looking at me with admiration, and giving me his attractive smile. He took one hand out of his pocket and gave it to me; I accepted it without hesitation. We were back on the cliffs at the ocean in the middle of nowhere. My hair was flying everywhere, and I was in his arms, locked in a tight embrace. I noticed his blond hair, his piercing green eyes, and I then looked into the distance and whispered, "I miss you."

He didn't reply, but I knew what his answer was since the beginning. "I promise I'll never forget you."

Then I was swept out of his embrace, away from his world, and back at the beach, hearing the laughs and screams of my schoolmates. I put down my arms and bit my lip.

"What's the matter?" Nick asked me.

"Nothing at all," I replied, smiling at him. I then slipped his hand in mine and said, "I have everything I ever wanted right here."

As we walked back down the cliffs, I thought of my previous life in Southampton, and how I didn't want to go to America. Then I met Nick, and all was okay again. I might as well been through a lot, but I've learned just as much.

They may be gone, but they were someplace else, a place beyond the ocean, as I put it. They were still with me wherever I'd go, seeing through my eyes. Nick was there with me, to help me through it all. He was a true best friend, just as Jenny and Naya had been. (Speaking of Jenny, I should write to her.) I thanked him for that, and smiled back at him, trying to send him a message that there might be a future for us someday. I was just not ready.

Maybe, just maybe, this won't be so bad after all.

**FINIS!**


	14. Special Thanks

**Author's Note**

**I don't know how to begin telling you how sad it is for me to put an end to this story. It's been with me for so many years; it's been proofread at least five times; and also rewritten a total of three times all together.**

**I'm glad it got its appreciation, though not as much as I would've liked. (After some "tests", I've discovered that people who read in the **_**Titanic**_** archive tend to read Jack/Rose stories instead of OC ones.) But those 8 reviews mean a lot to Danielle and Nick, as you well know. **

**Thank you to those who favorite this story:**

**~ Animal-Queen-Stephanie**

**~ meow139**

**~ TaylorLautner4eva**

**Hopefully there would be more of these in the future.**

**Thank you to those who put this story on story alert:**

**~ Animal-Queen-Stephanie**

**~ Ingel**

**And thank you to all who reviewed! **** It really, really, REALLY does mean a lot! I can't stress that enough!**

**What would you think of a sequel to this story? Any thoughts? **

**Thanks for reading! **

**~Samantha**


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